


Am I Crazy? Or Is This Our Time?

by LilMisSarcasm



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anne needs a hug, But not explicit, Discusses mature themes, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gilbert Blythe in Love, He is so in love with Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, Hurt/Comfort, Mention of Rape/Non-con, Smut, what even are these tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:34:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 56,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22331956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilMisSarcasm/pseuds/LilMisSarcasm
Summary: It is known that Gilbert Blythe is head over ass in love with Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. What isn't known is what he would have said or done had he found Anne sneakily writing her article during 3x06, and where their friendship would have gone from there.AKA a post-3x06 fic set in modern times, but in college and with Winifred long gone.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, Mary Lacroix/Sebastian ''Bash'' Lacroix, Ruby Gillis/Moody Spurgeon MacPherson
Comments: 356
Kudos: 678





	1. Closer to 'much prefer' than 'don't mind'

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know man...  
> I needed this? So I wrote it myself? Plis be kind?

Gilbert Blythe can never tell up from down when it comes to Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. 

There are days when they spend hours talking like they’re the best of friends, and there are days when she refuses to meet his eye. There are days when she meets his eye and holds his gaze in a curious, contemplative stare that makes his heart thunder in his chest and his breath catch in his throat, and there are days when he could make the most banal, filler-conversation remark and have her angry at him for one thing or another.

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert always zigs when he thinks she’s going to zag. It makes being head over ass in love with her really exhausting. 

He _swears_ there’s a possibility she feels the same way. A tiny, minute, minuscule possibility, but a possibility nonetheless. He could have sworn that her eyes have strayed to his mouth, more than once. That sometimes the way she looks at him is so tender, it takes everything in him not to swoop in and crush her to him. That sometimes when he hugs her, she’s maybe just as reluctant to let go as he is.

But just as many times as she’s pulled him in, she’s also pushed him away. Like earlier that day, when she had made a jibe about his ex-girlfriend and how he had only been with her for her parents’ connections to various med schools he’d been applying to. With a tiny grain of truth in her scathing words, it had _hurt_. 

The ex-girlfriend had, of course, been a thoroughly useless attempt at convincing himself that he could get over one Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. Winifred Rose was beautiful and charming and sweet, and her dad, upon hearing of Gilbert’s interest in pre-med, had graciously suggested that he mention Gilbert to a friend at the Sorbonne, if he was interested. It had all been light as air, easy. No one had yelled at him for saying hi or growled that they didn’t need him when he was just trying to be helpful or whacked him in the face with a calculus textbook for pulling their hair and calling them Carrots (okay, to be fair, he kinda deserved that one) or run away just when he thought they were (finally) getting somewhere with…with _something_. So, as lovely as Winifred Rose and her family had been to him…

There is no universe where he doesn’t always come back to Anne. His Anne with an E. There is no escaping her, or her lovely impassioned speeches, or her laughter-filled dances around his house with his niece, or her blue-grey doe eyes designed to haunt his very soul. 

Gilbert sighs as he thinks of her, driving to Redmond’s English building where their college newspaper office is. He’ll text her tomorrow, he decides. He’ll bring her coffee just the way she likes it because, well, he’s stupidly gone over her; he’s accepted that ages ago. He’ll tell her she can’t keep bringing up Winnie because he told her years ago that he was being stupid and the whole situation had gone too fast and he had tried his best to not make that kind of mistake again, and he thinks he’s succeeded so far. They’ve talked the issue to death already and _why does she keep bringing it up_ whenever he somehow upsets her??

His train of thought distracts him enough that he doesn’t realise the lights are still on at the newspaper office as he walks up to the building. In fact, his train of thought distracts him right up to the moment he opens the office door and sees…

Anne. She’s hunched over her laptop at the desk she normally uses (right next to his), her hair in fiery disarray around her face and her skin tinged blue by the light from her screen.

Her head whips up to see him walking into the newspaper office. Well, office is a truly generous word for the tiny space cramped with desks and books and abandoned equipment. The skeleton team of eight people who run the college newspaper had long ago dubbed it “The Closet” for good reason.

“What are you still doing here?” he asks. “I thought everyone would be gone by now.”

She gapes at him for a moment, looking so beautiful it almost brings him to his knees. 

“I was just…” She looks outside and appears to only just realise that it’s dark, that she’s probably been there hours after everyone else had left. “The paper’s layout was already done by the time I got my article in, so I’m reworking it.”

“The…layout?” Gilbert asks, hesitant as he steps into the room. “Or your article?”

“The whole layout,” Anne clarifies, careful and polite. He hates it when she feels like she has to be careful around him, both of them tiptoeing around each other. “What are you doing here?”

“I left my laptop charger in here somewhere,” he replies, putting his things down and edging past her desk to reach the one he uses. “This weekend’s the only chance I have to catch up on Netflix before - oh, here it is - before the mid-semester tests start.” He edges past her again and she refuses to look up at him. 

He sighs inwardly as he stares at the back of her head, and is suddenly reminded of that weird quote from the ‘Gone Girl’ movie; about splitting her head open and seeing how she ticks, how she thinks, how her mind works. Shaking himself, his eyes wander down and his breath catches as he sees what she’s wearing. 

He leans forward, his hands on her swivel chair, to get a better look, and his mouth immediately feels like it’s full of sandpaper. 

“I’ve never seen you wear this shirt,” he says, tugging on her sleeve. 

(He _swears_ he hears her gasp.)

“You saw me in it earlier,” Anne says, the ‘when I yelled at you in front of the whole team’ part of that sentence thankfully going unsaid. 

“You had your jacket on,” Gilbert replies, forcing his mouth to move and fighting the urge to move her brilliant red hair aside so he can see the back of her shirt more clearly.

The thing is, it’s not like Gilbert doesn’t _know_ that Anne owns this shirt, and seems to wear it regularly. He’s the one who gave it to her that time she had gotten drenched in the rain, running from her place to his to yell at him for not asking Ruby Gillis to some high school dance or another. She had kept yelling through her sneezing, and he hadn’t been able to help the fond smile that took over his face. She had continued to rant and sneeze even as he dragged her upstairs past a bewildered Mary and a smirking Bash to get her a towel from his room so she could dry off and a shirt that she could change into. She continued to berate him as she had towelled off, still sneezing, and even when she had taken her shirt off, not realizing that he hadn’t yet averted his eyes. She had continued with the scolding and the sneezing as he stood there, turned away with his ears burning, thinking about Anne undressing right behind him. She had only, blessedly, stopped when she’d gotten her hair clips stuck in his shirt, frustratedly asking for his help from within the tangle around her head. Ears still burning at the sight of her in a sports bra and his shirt around her head, so very _much_ of her creamy, freckled skin on display, he had helped un-snag her precious clips and pulled the shirt down to her hips so she was covered. He had held the shirt down at her hips as though it would take itself off as she had stared at him, wide-eyed and breathless, bare inches between them, and a searing heat filling the room despite the downpour outside. And just when he had started to lean in, just when her eyes had maybe, possibly trailed down to his mouth, Dellie had burst in, announcing her presence with a loud, delighted cry. On her then-wobbly year-old legs, Dellie made a beeline for her Uncle Gilby’s legs as Anne crouched down, her face flushed, to coo in delight at her. 

Since then, Gilbert has saved all the Snapchats that people send him of her wearing it, mostly from Diana, with increasingly knowing texts and captions accompanying them. Sometimes Anne wears the shirt just like she wears it now, with leggings and boots, but he’s also seen her Insta stories where she wears it at sleepovers and his _heart_ …

He’s heard a lot about what it does to a man when they see a woman wearing their shirt. And Anne…Anne in his old high school hockey team jersey, it does things to him. It doesn’t even say his name on it anymore. Instead of “BLYTHE” it now says “bLYhE” because of all the peeling letters. But still, she’s wearing _his_ _jersey_. It has _his_ name on it. 

She wears _his shirt_ to sleep. Does she have no regard for his sanity and his raggedly thumping heart that only beats for her?

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert wearing his jersey, with her fire-bright hair and her freckles, working late on the college newspaper she’s brought back to life with nothing but stubbornness and sheer willpower; it might be his undoing.

“Well,” she says, interrupting his thoughts, sounding almost defensive and still not looking at him. “You never said you wanted it back.”

“I don’t,” he says easily. “I’ve just never seen you wear it.”

“I wear it all the time,” she admits, like it’s nothing, going back to her layout arrangement on her laptop.

Gilbert’s heart ratchets away, and he’s about to make a quip that’s probably going to make her smash her laptop on his head when he sees the title of her article.

_What is fair?_

“Nice wordplay,” he says, grinning as he pulls another swivel chair over, settling in next to her. “With the issue being about the fair and all. What’s it about?”

Anne hesitates before she looks at him, (god, she takes his breath away when she’s this close) huge blue-grey eyes pleading. “Maybe…you shouldn’t read this until it comes out in the paper tomorrow.”

“What?” Gilbert ekes out, his voice croaky from her proximity. “Why?”

“Because….because what do you fucking _think_ it’s about, Gilbert??” she exclaims exasperatedly.

Oh. _Oh_.

“ _Anne_ …”

“No,” she says, tetchy now as she turns back to her laptop. “This needs to be said, and since no one else cares, which is _abominable_ by the way, it’s up to me to - “

“Anne-girl, come on, let’s talk about this.”

“We’ve talked _enough_ \- “

“That wasn’t us talking, you just yelled at me - “

“Do you really want to do this again?” she asks, turning around to attack him with her wide, clear, blue-grey eyes, because who even cares about the state of his heart. 

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert with those huge blue-grey eyes, so clear he’s convinced that if he looked hard enough he’d have an insight into her beautiful brain, wearing his jersey, with her fiery hair and fiery temper to match, once again angry at him for something he wishes he could fully understand. 

“Just…please,” he says, half placating, half tired. “Anne, just talk to me.”

She looks at him, the obvious war in her mind making him scared to move in case that might affect the outcome. Her eyes flick back and forth between his, but when he reaches for her hand, she edges away a little. He immediately backtracks, holding both his hands up but still holding her gaze.

“What Billy did to Josie…” she starts haltingly, watching his hands lower to his lap. “It…happens all the time.”

Gilbert swallows. “Yes. It does.”

Anne’s eyes zero in on his shoulder with unwavering focus so she doesn’t have to look at his face. “And…people are acting like just because it was a frat party that things like that just _tend to happen_. Like women should just _expect_ to be roofied and assaulted when they’re in the vicinity of a frat party. Like it’s _ridiculous_ that we should think we’re safe when we’re surrounded by our friends and classmates.”

“Like just because you’re there,” Gilbert says. “That you’ve accepted the risk that it might happen, and you deserve it if you do get drugged, or attacked.”

Anne’s eyes finally meet his. “Exactly. It was pure luck that Josie spilled most of that drink he spiked. If she hadn’t then…she might not have been able to fight him off, Gilbert. She might… He might have actually…”

Gilbert swallows, his throat dry. “I know.”

Anne sighs and rubs at her forehead. “Not that it’s great that she had to run through the party screaming for help with her dress half torn but…”

“But it could have been worse,” Gilbert finishes, fighting the urge to reach for her and pull her into his arms. 

“So, I’ve been looking for statistics and stuff on sexual assault in all its forms. Do you know how often something like that happens? The whole almost-rape situation, or even just full on rape? How…how normal that is, statistically?”

Gilbert keeps silent, waiting for her to continue.

“The probability of it happening is even higher for women at this age, college-age, between eighteen to twenty-four. And suddenly I thought, oh god, Mary! She must have been that age when she was…”

Gilbert’s heart twists painfully in his chest at the thought of Mary at the age they are now, pregnant with Elijah and not by choice. “Yeah.”

“And there were so many girls back when I was in foster care and group homes who…and…”

“Anne, I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No!” She gets up and stalks off to the printer where she picks up a copy of her article. “You of all people I expected to have an opinion on this! After what Mary went through with Elijah, and the things you saw when you interned at that sex health clinic I thought that you would…that you’d be as passionate about this as, well not as passionate as me but _something_ that isn’t this polite disinterest - “

“Polite disinterest?” Gilbert exclaims. He tempers himself slightly before continuing, “Anne, you never _asked_ me what I thought. You were talking about it so passionately and I interrupted you, sure, but that is all I did. That doesn’t mean I don’t care!”

“Do you, though?” Anne’s eyes flint with purpose. “You’re a man. You’re so much less likely to have to worry about being drugged and raped so do you actually _think_ about it? About all the things women have to worry about when they’re at a bar or a party or just…whenever they have to leave home for any reason at all? About how even when they’re a victim of assault they still get blamed for it because of what they’re wearing or how dark the street they were walking on was, while their would-be rapist doesn’t have to answer to why they’re so sick that they consider clothing choices as _permission_ to assault someone? Do you actually have an informed opinion on equality between men and women, not just with the consequences of sexual assault but with - ”

“Anne-girl,” Gilbert interrupts, putting his hands up to stop her, even though what he really wants to do is reach for her hands and caress her knuckles comfortingly. “We lived in _Avonlea_ and my brother is a proud black man. Do you really think I don’t have an informed opinion on equality?”

He sees Anne soften minutely at the mention of Bash, and it’s the best sight he’s seen all day. He stands up and approaches her, still standing next to the printer. 

Amazingly, she _lets_ him.

She’s close enough to touch, and he’s realizing he doesn’t know what to say when she asks softly, looking up at him through her lashes, “Do you maybe…want to read it?”

He clears his throat, caught in the endless blue of her eyes, and says, “Of course I do.”

She holds out the sheets of paper to him wordlessly and it takes him way too long to take them from her, unable to maintain complete control over his limbs as he should when Anne’s unwavering focus is on him.

(He _knows_. He knows he’s a fool for her and he usually doesn’t mind it that much but _move_ , limbs! Dammit!)

They end up sitting back down at her desk on their swivel chairs; him reading her article and her messing around on her laptop and shooting him sideways looks that he pretends not to notice. 

He’s barely a paragraph in, smiling at a metaphor she used when she says, “Do you not think this is the right thing to do?”

He looks up at her, surprised. Confident, self-reliant Anne asking _him_ about one of her crazy schemes? The moon must be…not blue but a bright _fuchsia_. The waters of the seas must all have dried up. The mountains must have crumbled. Kanye West must be president.

“I’m only at the beginning of this article and it’s already so good, Anne. Of course I want to see this published but…sneaking around behind Miss Stacy’s back about it doesn’t feel right. This,” Gilbert holds up her article. “Should go through the proper procedures like all the articles do. Everyone should get a say, like they always do.”

Anne looks crestfallen, but thoughtful. He drags her swivel chair to him and startles her out of her thoughts, her arms and legs akimbo at the unexpected movement until she comes to rest between his knees, her cold hands landing on his forearms to steady herself. 

“Did you ask Josie how she felt about you writing this? Or at least just tell her that you were writing this?” Gilbert asks, trying desperately to ignore her slim fingers tracing soft shapes into his arms.

Anne’s eyes fall from his, and she’s thoughtful as she says, “I told myself I wouldn’t mention her by name and just make it about gender equality in general. But I suppose everyone would have known it was…not _about_ her, but _because_ of her that this was written at all.”

“And if that’s the case then - “

“Then Josie should have a say in whether or not it gets written,” Anne finishes for him, biting her lip and staring out the window.

“Exactly,” Gilbert says, cupping her elbow gently. “And Miss Stacy’s always been good to us about the things we feel need to be said. It’s not like she would have told you not to write this.”

“Billy’s dad is on the school board, Gil,” Anne says, leaning towards him slightly. “I thought maybe if she didn’t know then…at least she’d have plausible deniability and then - “

“And then it’s just _your_ head on the chopping block?” Gilbert asks gently. “That’s not ideal either, Anne-girl. Not for you, anyway. And who knows if that’s the way it would have gone? It’s just as likely that the board would have said Miss Stacy has lost control of The Closet’s staff. Who knows what they would do if that was the case?”

Anne sighs and rubs at her face tiredly. “In any case, I guess it’s too soon for the article to go out in tomorrow’s issue?”

Gilbert rubs his thumb over her elbow. “We can just leave the layout the way it was before you started rearranging. Come back to this when you’re ready to talk to Josie and Miss Stacy about it.”

Anne looks at him warily, her eyes flicking down to his thumb rubbing circles into her skin. “I guess that sounds okay.”

Gilbert looks down at the article he’s still holding and waves it at her, saying, “Can I keep this one though? I still do want to read it.”

An almost-smile flickers across her face and his own mouth twitches in response. “Let me print you a fresh copy,” she says. “That one might have been my second draft from an hour and a half ago.”

He willingly hands over the outdated copy and she rolls her chair back to her laptop as he gets up to put his long-forgotten laptop charger into his shoulder bag. 

She’s still fiddling around with something on her laptop when he says, “You know, if you’re done soon I can give you a lift home.”

She looks up, saying, “Oh no, you don’t have to pull out Gilbert the gentleman just because I’m all…this.”

He grins. “I’m not offering because of my excellent reputation as a gentleman, or because you’re all _this_ , whatever that means. You know your place is near mine.”

She tries and fails to hide her almost-smile. “Fine, then. I’ll help you maintain your stupid reputation as a gentleman and not so graciously accept that offer of a ride home.”

He can’t help but laugh, because the alternative is to fall to his knees at her feet and beg her to let him love her because he can’t stand how wonderful she is and how _much_ she makes him feel just by standing there and being…her. 

He turns away and fiddles with his bag because it hurts to look at her when she’s all lit up by the glow of her screen, her forehead scrunched up adorably in concentration, her perfectly rosy bottom lip caught in her teeth. He shoves his laptop charger further into his bag and looks around his desk for things that he can pretend he needs even though he’s already told her that he’s just going to go home for his Netflix binge. 

“It upset me,” Anne says suddenly, from somewhere behind him.

He jumps a little and turns around to face her, and she’s standing uncertainly over her laptop, the printer whirring with activity behind her. “What?” he asks, sounding just about as dumb as a rock.

“When I brought up Billy,” she clarifies, edging forward almost nervously towards him. “And everyone started saying that he wouldn’t have tried anything if Josie wasn’t dressed the way she was or if she hadn’t left with him or…any of the other bullshit excuses that assholes like Billy Andrews use to their advantage. I… I almost _expected_ that, from the others. I knew someone would suggest it and it would snowball and it would have been me arguing against six other people about how no woman _asks_ to be harassed or assaulted.”

“But then you…” She looks at him almost apologetically, and continues, “You interrupted me, and even though I know it wasn’t what you were doing, it seemed like I was suddenly arguing against seven other people…” She looks up at him, her thumb digging into the hem of her (his) shirt fiercely, even as her face becomes unguarded, vulnerable. “That upset me. Because I expected it from them but…but not from _you_. And I thought that argument would be the two of us against the world like it always is and it felt like this enormous _betrayal_ almost, even though it wasn’t, and it just _immediately_ brought me back to - ”

“To Winnie,” he finishes breathlessly, his eyes wide and his throat tight.

Her strong cadence fades off into a near-growl, and she abruptly turns around to rush over to the printer. And even though its job is done, the latest copy of her article sitting there ready to be collected, she just stands there, quiet and still.

Until her shoulders start to shake with sobs, and Gilbert can _hear_ the sound of his heart cracking open in his chest. 

Anne had been nothing but lovely to Winnie when Gilbert had been with her, even if she had been slightly more distant from Gilbert. If he had been expecting jealousy, he would have been sorely disappointed. But there had been times when Anne would stare at Winnie’s gorgeous blond hair, and tug at her own red braids solemnly. When Anne would make Winnie laugh, and then look so very sad when Winnie would lean against Gilbert as she laughed. 

Once, when they had been at a party, he had been talking to Anne on a balcony, her face shining in the moonlight. When she had smiled at him, he had been helpless to stop his gaze from wandering to her lips. And even though Anne had maybe, _possibly_ gazed at his mouth before her eyes met his once more, she had blurted out Winifred’s name just as he had maybe, _possibly_ started leaning in to kiss her. 

Wanting to kiss Anne while he was still with Winnie wasn’t the right thing to do, but it had still felt more right to him than his and Winnie’s entire relationship. Like Anne was the one he was being unfaithful to instead of Winnie. If he himself had been so confused at the time, he can’t imagine what Anne had been feeling. But if she describes it as a betrayal… 

Gilbert would say that sounded about right.

“ _Anne_ …” he rasps, his heart in his throat. “Anne, you know I wasn’t siding with them against you, I…”

“I know that,” she says, her voice thick. She still refuses to turn around.

He rushes over to her, wanting to pull her into his arms but not sure if she would be okay with it. “And you _know_ that Winnie was a… Oh, Anne-girl.” 

Anne turns to face another direction, like that way he won’t be able to see her cry. His heart leaps with fondness and brings a tired smile to his face. He tugs on her sleeve gently, letting her know that he’s there. She sways backwards towards him for one breathless moment before steadying herself again, facing the printer like her life depends on her having a direct line of vision to the equipment. 

He smiles and tugs on her other sleeve. He hears her huff out a laugh through her sniffles, and he tugs harder. In the space of a single breath, Anne twists herself around, throws her arms around his neck and starts crying earnestly into his chest. 

Gilbert catches her, pulling her closer. She’s shaking as she cries, and she feels so small in his arms. His hurricane Anne, who turned his life upside down just by being in it, who irrevocably changed the nature of his being, who can raise his spirits with one upturned corner of her lips; who feels like she is _his_ even though she is her own voraciously independent person, who is the essence of his ability to love in a way that fills his chest with such awe and adoration that he should have exploded with the force of it years ago; she’s so small in his arms. 

His arm tightens around her waist as his other hand cups the back of her head, her hair flowing through his fingers like the softest silk. He noses at her temple, breathing in the flowery smell of her shampoo. Even her smell soothes him like nothing else does. 

He can only resist the urge to press a kiss to her head for so long. He doesn’t really kiss her as much as he rests his mouth on the crown of her head in a fierce imitation of an almost-kiss, but she buries her face further into his neck and shoulder in response. Her shaky exhale sends an unexpected shiver down his spine that he hopes she doesn’t notice. He rocks her gently, and rubs the back of her head with his thumb. 

“You are made of the most incredible fire, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert,” Gilbert whispers into her hair as her sobs become quieter. “Josie Pye has never been the kindest to you and yet here you are, protecting her from the likes of Billy Andrews with a pen instead of a sword.”

Anne huffs into his neck. “I am here ruining your shirt with my breakdown,” she mutters. “When I should have called both Josie and Miss Stacy hours ago about making this article happen. I’m fighting Billy Andrews with nothing but tears at this point.”

Gilbert hides his smile in her temple. “You’re welcome to ruin as many of my shirts as you like before you go out and conquer the world with nothing but your wits. I do love watching you win over ignorance and hate.”

Anne pulls back a little to look up at him, her eyes red and her face tear streaked, but determined as they come. “That’s what it was, wasn’t it? With Billy. Ignorance and hate. That’s what it always is with Billy, for as long as I’ve known him.” 

Gilbert feels like he’s getting away with murder when she lets him push her hair behind her ear. He nods quietly and she looks down at his chest thoughtfully, twisting a button on his Henley. 

“So you...” She frowns as she trails off.

“I what, Anne-girl?”

She looks back up at him. “You didn’t think I was being...dramatic and over-sensitive and...whatever else Moody and Charlie said?”

“I think,” Gilbert says as he rubs her back. “That Moody and Charlie don’t know anything about what it’s like to be a woman.”

“And you have _heaps_ of insight on being a woman do you, Gilbert Blythe?” she asks, a smirk lifting the corner of her lips as she continues to twist the button on his shirt. 

“I got lucky,” Gilbert replies. “This amazing girl hit me right in the head when I was 13 and then decided she was going to teach me all the ways in which I could be wrong about literally everything, including how amazing but also how difficult it is to be a woman.”

“She sounds like a high functioning sociopath.”

“Hey! Don’t talk about my best friend like that!” Gilbert protests. “And yes, I did catch that Sherlock reference.”

Anne giggles, the sound of it making his heart sing a five-part harmony of something with violins in it. She seems to realize how close they’re standing then, and shyly pulls away from him, leaving his arms and chest cold. 

“I really can get myself home if you’re...if you’ve got plans,” she says, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear that Gilbert wishes he could tug on. “I don’t want to disrupt your entire night.”

“Yes, what a tragedy that you interrupted me binging on at least eight episodes of The Crown,” Gilbert agrees wryly. “I’d really much prefer your company, Anne-girl. If you don’t mind mine, that is.”

Her smile is small, but blinding. “I’m closer to ‘much prefer’ than ‘don’t mind’ when it comes to your company, Gil.”

They’re the most beautiful words he’s ever heard.

“Then let’s get you home,” Gilbert says, smiling as he grabs his bag. 

Anne turns off the printer and her laptop and Gilbert waits until she’s done to turn out the lights and lock the door. She loops her arm through his comfortably, pressing her face into his arm briefly before looking up at him. Gilbert, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest, smiles warmly and touches his forehead to hers for a moment before pulling away so they can walk to his car.


	2. Call me Carrots again, please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne and Gilbert talk about her article and smile a lot.

On their way to Anne’s, she doesn’t say anything when Gilbert makes a stop at her favourite cafe, but smiles brilliantly when he brings her a minty chamomile that she likes to have when she’s stressed. Her smile tempers into a soft blush when he also gives her a single wildflower from the riotous bunch that grows in pots in the cafe, and Gilbert’s answering smile is just as bashful.

“I read some more of your article while I was waiting,” Gilbert says, as he pulls out of the parking lot.

“Yeah?” Anne asks, tucking the bright blue wildflower in her hair. “Any notes?”

Gilbert chuckles. “I was just going to say it’s…amazing. And inspired. Does that count as a note?”

“You are being way too nice to me right now, Gilbert Blythe. You’d better start arguing with me about something before I let it all get to my head.”

Gilbert laughs as Anne takes a cautious sip of her hot tea. “Well I can think of a way to rile you up with a single word, but if you hit me with a textbook we’re definitely going to crash.”

Her eyes narrow and she punches his shoulder lightly. “That word better not have anything to do with a certain orange vegetable,” she threatens. “I’m not responsible for my actions when said vegetable comes up. Matthew and Marilla will have a lot to say if they have to tend to any broken bones resulting from this completely avoidable incident.”

Gilbert’s smirk deepens. “Marilla was very sympathetic to my bruised and almost concussed head the first time, if you recall. I’m pretty sure she’d be on my side.”

“Is that so?” Anne says, her grin bright and dangerous. “Shall we test that theory? See how certain you are about it?”

Gilbert laughs. “Okay, okay, I call a truce. No need to break my head over it. Have you been adequately riled so I can go back to complimenting your article now?”

She sniffs, pretending to be put out. “If you absolutely _must_ , Gilbert Blythe.”

He grips the steering wheel tightly to stop himself from reaching for her hand. “I really liked the part about how women are not made whole by men, and deserve the right to bodily autonomy. It’s my favourite so far. I’m sure I’ll find more to like the more I read.”

“Thanks, Gil.” She sighs. “I just wish…that some of it didn’t have to be said, you know? How could people _not know_ that when a woman says no, it means no? How could it not be completely obvious that women have a voice, and they deserve to be heard?”

“The fact that Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, who always says exactly what she means, finds it hard to be heard? That should tell people how bad things are.” He looks at her, continuing, “I wish it didn’t have to be said too. And I know I’m just a straight white guy, and I probably don’t understand as well as I think I do, but…I won’t stop _trying_ to.”

“The fact that you understand the innate privilege of being a straight white man speaks volumes already, Gil,” she says reassuringly. “I honestly wish the bar wasn’t that low, but here we are.”

“Me too, Anne-girl.”

They sit quietly for a while, Gilbert focusing on driving and Anne sipping at her chamomile. 

“You know I always hear you, right?” Gilbert asks suddenly. “That I always welcome your opinions and your ideas, and that I appreciate you and your voice and the things you choose to speak up about?”

He doesn’t dare look at her, his heart beating a little too fast, but he can still see the way her eyes widen as she looks at him. When he does work up the nerve to meet her gaze, he sees the way her eyes are shining at him, not with tears but with subtle delight. 

“Well, I… I _did_ , kind of. To some extent I…” She takes a deep breath before saying, “I didn’t know it like that. And it’s so wonderful of you to say, Gil. I…appreciate you too, more than I can say.”

He smiles to himself, his stomach flip-flopping away. “It’s only the truth, Anne-girl.”

Anne smiles into her takeaway cup softly. She squeezes his arm, saying, “I sometimes forget how unlike other guys you are. How I wish there were more people in the world, men _and_ women, like you.”

“That’s funny. Because I wish there were more people in the world like _you_.”

Thankfully Anne presses her face into his arm, because he can’t deal with not touching her any longer. “ _Stop_ ,” she says faux mournfully. “I can’t deal with you being so sweet.”

Gilbert hides his grin in the top of her head for a moment before turning back to face the road. “You stop _first_. I can’t deal with you when you’re not yelling at me.”

“Okay we have to bring out the big guns. Go on, Gil. Call me Carrots again, _please_.”

They’re both laughing when he stops at a traffic light, and she leans her chin on his shoulder. He startles at how close she is when he turns to face her, her smile way too close to his lips. 

“What?” he asks, smiling.

“Don’t let this get to your head - “

“Too late, but go on.”

“You’re kinda great, Gilbert Blythe. Really. I don’t know what I… I don’t know what I’d do if we…if you…”

“Me too,” he says, his heart in his throat. He swallows as she brings their foreheads together, saying, “Anne…”

The light turns green. 

The roads are empty enough that no one honks at him even though he doesn't move, instead taking his sweet time looking away from her; with her eyes wide and her smile small and _so_ beautiful. As he drives, he squeezes her hand that’s still resting on his arm. She squeezes his arm in turn, and his thirteen year old self high-fives him in his head. He can’t quite imagine them doing this back then, so open and so comfortable with each other, but he’s glad they at least have this now. 

He pulls up to her apartment building way too soon, in his opinion. Anne gently prods at the bright blue wildflower in my hair to make sure it’s still there, making him smile. 

“Do you…wanna come in?” she asks, not looking like she’s planning to leave the car anytime soon, slouched comfortably in her seat. 

Gilbert’s heart triples in size in his chest. “Are you sure? I don’t want to interrupt your plans tonight or – “

“I think we’ve established that neither of us had important plans tonight that warrants any kind of worry about interrupting them,” Anne says, smiling softly. Her smile falters a little before she continues, “Unless you’re…you just want to head home or – “

Gilbert grins. “I’d love to come in.”

Anne’s answering smile is magic. “Well then, come on.”

He reaches for her things as they walk inside, and she pulls them out of his hands with a frown. At the look on his face, she reluctantly hands over her heavy shoulder bag, and he grins at her acquiescence. 

“Carrying your things for you – “ Gilbert starts.

“Doesn’t mean you think I’m incapable of doing it myself, I know, I know,” she interrupts. “Let’s just skip the argument for today and I promise I’ll argue back tomorrow.”

Gilbert laughs as they step out of the elevator, and Anne slaps him on the stomach lightly. He grabs her hand and holds it against his chest lightly, stroking her thumb with his. 

Her eyes are curious when she turns to look at their intertwined hands for a long moment, then at him. “Gil,” she breathes, sounding like she’s about to protest but still not pulling her hand away. 

“Anne,” he parrots back, smirking.

She uses the hand that’s still in his to shove him playfully and he’s about to protest when a door opens further down the hall. Gilbert and Anne turn around to spot Josie, dressed in a giant grey hoodie and sweatpants, coming out of her apartment warily. She spots them, hands entangled in the middle of the hallway, and rolls her eyes. 

“Is this,” Josie says, gesturing at the two of them. “Gonna be a thing now?”

Anne quickly drops his hand, blushing. Gilbert grins and readjusts his hold on her bag, tempted to grab her hand again just to see what she’ll do. 

“I was just getting Anne home,” Gilbert says. “Where are you headed, Jose?”

“Pizza delivery guy is stuck downstairs,” Josie says, rushing past them to the elevator. 

“She’s barely left her apartment except for classes since the thing happened with Billy,” Anne quickly mutters to Gilbert once Josie is far enough away.

Gilbert raises his eyebrows, offering, “Josie, do you want me to go get it for you?”

Josie turns around to look at them haughtily. “I’m perfectly capable of going _downstairs_ by myself, Blythe.”

Gilbert can’t help but smile. “God, you sound just like Anne,” he teases, looking down to see Anne trying not to smile. “Look what you’ve done, Anne. Now nobody wants my help with anything anymore.”

Josie smiles despite herself. “Yeah, you’re surrounded by independent women. How terrible for you.”

“How terrible indeed,” Anne says, looking up at him fondly, making his chest warm.

“Okay _yuck_ I don’t wanna be here for this, _bye_ ,” Josie says, punching at the down button on the elevator. 

“Josie, wait,” Anne calls, pulling away from him to walk towards her. “I need to talk to you about something, when you have a minute.”

“Anne,” Josie says on a sigh, looking over Anne’s shoulder at Gilbert. Her voice is lower as she continues, “If this is about Billy _again_ …”

Even from a distance Gilbert can see Anne hesitate. “Well…”

“ _Anne_ ,” Josie says heatedly. “I already _told_ you I don’t want to talk about it!” 

“And you don’t have to if you don’t want to!” Anne says quickly. “I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to but… I’m writing this article and I could really use your help with it.”

Josie’s eyes flicker towards Gilbert, who says, “I haven’t read the whole thing yet, but from what I’ve read so far it’s a really good article, Jose.”

“It’s about _all_ women; our rights, how we should be acknowledged as equal to men,” Anne says quietly. “I promise it’s not about you, or about what happened, but I do have to tell you that it was inspired by you. How strong you are, and how you refuse to let Billy bully you out of your classes, out of this school.”

Josie looks like she’s gritting her teeth as she looks away, but when she looks back at Anne her eyes are shiny with unshed tears. “How strong I am? Is that a joke? Look at me,” she says, gesturing vaguely at her messy hair and clothes. “Do I look _strong_ to you right now?”

“The last time someone told me I was strong, I was crying into his shirt like a baby.” Anne says insistently, her eyes flicking towards Gilbert before focusing back on Josie. “Having emotions and feelings, and reacting to stressful and _horrible_ situations does not mean we aren’t strong, independent women, _just_ like you said.”

The lines around Josie’s mouth smoothes out as the elevator arrives. Her eyes flit between Anne and Gilbert as she gets into the elevator, and she says, “I’ll text you sometime okay? This week isn’t great. Maybe at the weekend, or next week.”

Anne’s smile, small as it is, could have lighted up continents. “That sounds great, Josie. Enjoy your pizza.”

The doors close and Anne turns to Gilbert slowly, the smile not yet died from her lovely, glittering face. She laughs in delight as she races towards him and throws her arms around him. He catches her for the second time that night, caught up in her excitement as he laughs, spinning her around and making her squeal into his ear.

“One down,” he says as he makes himself put her down. “Just Miss Stacy to go, Anne.”

“Josie could still smack me in the face when she reads the article,” Anne says, still grinning. 

“No way. No one could react that way to that amazing, inspired article.”

She blushes as she lets him go, tugging his sleeve to lead him to her apartment. And as she turns away, he almost pulls her back to him to spill his guts right there in the hallway. He almost tells her how beautiful he thinks she is, how passionate and driven and smart and absolutely ethereal, and how he loves her so much, completely and unconditionally, that he doesn’t think anything or anyone else could ever compare to her. He almost tells her how hard it is to keep himself from kissing her, how hard it is to let go of her when she’s in his arms, how hard it is to just be her friend when he wants to be her _everything_. 

But then she’s unlocking her door and telling him that she can’t wait to get into her pyjamas and watch something on Netflix and lie under the covers with some cocoa, and he snaps himself out of his Anne-daze. 

“Do you want some cocoa too?” she asks as she clears some books off her kitchen counter. “I might even have some marshmallows, if you’re lucky.”

“That sounds great,” Gilbert replies, setting her things down on her tiny dining table before joining her in the kitchen. “Do you need any help?”

“Can you just check that cabinet over there for the marshmallows?”

They make their cocoa in companionable silence, and Gilbert makes his way to the couch with his as usual, careful not to spill.

“Where’re you going?” Anne asks shyly from behind him, at the door to her room. “Get in here.”

Gilbert flushes as red as Anne’s hair. He’s never even _seen_ , let alone been in, her room. If someone had told him mere hours ago that he’d be spending his evening in Anne Shirley-Cuthbert’s apartment, and in her bedroom no less, he would have let out a strangled laugh and told them they were crazy. But here he is, Anne standing at her bedroom door looking so beautiful and so inviting that he’s moving before he’s even made a conscious decision to do so.

Her room looks and smells and _feels_ like her. She has stacks of books next to her nightstand, and he can see Jane Eyre, her favourite, at the bottom of the pile. He smiles at the seashells on her dresser, and his smile widens at the sight of an obviously missing seashell, one that she had gifted him that sits on his own dresser. Her curtains are white and lacy, like the ones she has in her room back home, because she likes to be woken by the morning sun. 

Gilbert knows, on some level, that Anne trusts him. But this gift of being in her space, being entrusted with the most private insight into _her_ , is almost overwhelming. He takes in the room where she sleeps, where she dreams, where she might have been inspired to write a story, where she lazes in bed on the Saturdays she calls her lazy days, and he can’t stop the spread of the goofy smile on his face. 

She shoves him lightly in the direction of her bed, and he takes off his shoes and his jacket as she putters about looking for some pyjamas to change into. He smiles as he realizes that she sleeps on the right side of the bed (he sleeps on the left), and crawls into the bed happily. He grabs the book she must be in the middle of reading off her nightstand and lies back as he flips through it idly, noticing that she’s using a flower he had pressed and laminated for her as a bookmark. 

“I’m just gonna get changed, Gil,” Anne calls, turning around to face him. She smiles as she sees him lying comfortably in her bed, flipping through her book. “I was going to say make yourself comfortable, but you look like you couldn’t be _more_ comfortable.“

Gilbert chuckles, putting her book back on her nightstand. “I’m am indeed, Anne-girl. Go on and change; I’ll be here.”

As Anne disappears into her bathroom, Gilbert rolls over and ends up with his face pressed into her pillow, which smells of her flowery shampoo and just..her. He smiles into the pillow contentedly, and rolls over again when Anne comes back into the room. She’s still dressed in the same shirt, but she’s taken off her leggings and put on a pair of shorts and fuzzy socks. She looks adorable. 

Before he can tell her so, she launches herself into the bed to lie next to him, giggling as she bounces to a stop. 

“Hi,” she says softly. 

“Hey,” he whispers back, smiling. 

They just lie there, both of them smiling like idiots. Bash’s voice drifts into Gilbert’s head, something about what a moke he is around his Anne-girl, to which Gilbert mentally responds that she isn’t _his_ Anne. 

“What do you feel like watching?” Anne asks.

_You_ , he almost says. _Just you_. 

‘Bash is right,’ Gilbert thinks. ‘I am a moke when it comes to her.’

“The Crown?” he says hopefully. “Season three’s supposed to be really good.”

Anne smiles as she sits up, grabbing her laptop and opening up Netflix. “Claire Foy’s been replaced right? And it’s Olivia Colman now? I do like her.”

Gilbert sits up and leans against her headboard, careful not to crush the string of lilies of the valley she’s artfully draped over it (she had carefully tucked the bright blue wildflower he had given her into the strands, a shocking blue in the midst of the delicate white). Anne hits play on the first episode of The Crown and leans back against the headboard comfortably, clutching her pillow to her chest. 

And just when Gilbert thinks he’s going to need to rewatch the entire season because he’s going to be watching Anne more than he watches the show, she shifts closer, tucking herself into his side and putting her head on his shoulder.

“Is this okay?” she murmurs into his arm. 

He moves his arm, gently displacing her from his shoulder. He can see her tense, probably taking it as a rejection, until he puts his arm around her, pulling her closer until her head is comfortably nestled into his chest. 

“More than okay,” he says, smiling into her hair. 

Even as he turns his attention to her laptop screen, he takes note of her shy smile that she presses gently into his chest, hoping she can’t hear his heart racing. 

“You know,” he says softly. She looks up at him, her chin on his chest and her arm resting on his stomach, and he continues, “I would have been on your side today at that meeting. I’m always on your side, I just… Anne-girl, I’m doing what I’ve done since I met you; I’m following your lead. Yeah, I’m tempering your passionate tendencies a little but mostly… I’m just following your lead.”

“I know that, Gil. I don’t think I could ever bring myself to doubt that, really.”

He runs his fingers through the hair at her temple. “Good.”

“Good,” she says. “Now let me watch The Crown.”

Gilbert laughs and pulls her closer, getting them both comfortable as they finally start paying attention to the show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was actually a little hard to write because I was having too much fun writing Chapter 3 😂
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it, and hopefully the next chapter will be up soon, if my muse doesn't leave me. Things may get a little...hotter?


	3. A little less of a gentleman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gilbert and Anne have a very, very good morning...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where that M rating kicks in, you guys.

Gilbert wakes up slowly, blinking and groaning. He’s surrounded by warmth and flowers, and he lets out a slow ‘mmm’ as he pulls the warmth closer. Then the warmth lets out a sigh as it nuzzles into his neck and shoulder and his eyes fly open.

Flashes of memory run through his mind of the night before, of falling asleep during the second episode of The Crown, of Anne shushing him gently, telling him to go back to sleep as she extricated herself from his arms to put away her laptop and their mugs of cocoa. He remembers still being vaguely awake when she slid into bed next to him, hesitating just a little before putting her arms around his waist and tangling their legs together. Even half-asleep, he had sighed happily at the feel of her in his arms, wanting nothing more than to be able to hold her like that every night for, well, _ever_. 

Bash did say he was a lovesick moke where Anne was concerned.

Anne groans as she wake up, not at all surprised to see him. The light hits her just right, and her hair turns to fire in the morning sun. 

“Morning,” he says, his voice low and rumbly with sleep.

“You snore,” she says grumpily, her fingers that had been lying on his chest digging into his shirt.

“I do _not_ ,” he says, amused. 

“Are you calling me a liar, Gilbert Blythe?” she mutters into his neck. “I will fucking record you the next time, just you wait.”

Gilbert can’t help the giant smile that takes over his face. “Next time?”

He hears a muffled ‘mmph’ from his neck and chuckles, pulling her closer. She comes willingly, almost half on top of him and still nuzzling closer. 

“I definitely don’t object to that,” he says into her hair. “Having a next time.” 

“Yeah?” she asks softly, hitching her leg between his. 

“Do you not know that?” he asks, his fingers trailing down her spine gently, making her shiver and arch into his side. He inhales sharply at the feel of her stuttered breath against his neck, and his hand stills at the small of her back. 

It’s one thing to know that she’s not wearing a bra when they’re just watching something on Netflix. It’s quite another to know she’s not wearing a bra when she’s just woken up in his arms with her soft breasts pressed into his side.

Anne gets up onto her elbow (temporarily solving his problem for him) so she can look straight at his face, thoughtful and wondering.

“Did you mean what you said? About following my lead since you’ve met me?”

Gilbert sighs, sure that she doesn’t mean anything by it; that she’s probably talking about their academic rivalry, or their being co-editors of their high school newspaper, and then their college newspaper. 

He, however, is thinking of all the times he had wanted to kiss her _so_ _badly_ but didn’t. All the times he had forced himself to look away as other men had flirted with her and taken her on dates and kissed her right in front of him, and he had done nothing. All the times he had found her crying about something that some guy had done, and he had swallowed all his words about how he would never treat her that way, would never willingly make her cry. All the times he had stared at other girls, wanting so desperately for someone, anyone, to carve Anne out of his heart, and realizing that no one ever would. 

All the times he had been in this very apartment, saying good night at her door when he had wanted to stay and crawl into bed with her, holding her close the way she’s allowing him to in that moment. 

“Yeah, Anne-girl. I meant it,” he says, tucking some of her unruly hair away from her face. 

“And…” She shuffles closer, saying, “Did you just mean…academically?”

His breath catches, and he gulps down a breath at the look in her blue-grey eyes. “Not exactly, I guess.”

“Not exactly?” she asks, her hand trailing up from his chest to his cheek. 

He closes his eyes, leaning into the coolness of her touch. “I follow your lead like this too,” he admits. 

“Like what, Gil?” She whispers, as though she doesn’t want to break the delicate early-morning bubble surrounding them both. 

“I wouldn’t be _here_ if I wasn’t following your lead, Anne,” he clarifies. “I’d never have invited myself into your apartment, into your _bed,_ any of it, unless I had your explicit say so. It’s like that with almost everything. I follow your lead on…when I’m allowed to touch you. When I can ask more questions, and when I should just shut up and listen. When I can hold you. When I’m allowed to…need you.”

“You…” She runs the backs of her fingers against his cheek wonderingly. “You need me?”

She comes even closer, her face bare inches away, and his hand on her neck betrays him completely, pulling her closer. 

“Always,” he whispers, still pulling her closer. “ _Always_ Anne, I - “

And then she’s kissing him; soft, a little hesitant, and absolutely perfect. It seems like the whole world goes quiet; the only thing that matters even a little is that Anne, beautiful, fiery Anne, is smiling against his lips as they kiss. 

Dear gods above, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert is _kissing_ him! 

As she pulls away, still smiling, his hand travels from her neck to her freckle-covered cheek, stroking it with his thumb. 

Leaning into his touch and gently rubbing their noses together, she asks, “How will you be following my lead on that, Gilbert Blythe?” 

Gilbert is sure that his responding smile is the dopiest of the dopiest smiles recorded in history. He surges up to kiss her again, sure that he isn’t doing a very good job because he can’t stop smiling. But Anne doesn’t complain, smiling herself as he angles their lips to kiss her properly. She hums against his mouth happily and he groans softly in response. He nudges her lips open with his, slow and gentle, and touches his tongue to hers. She moans into his mouth as their tongues tangle together, and he feels her fingers on his neck and in his hair, scratching at his scalp soothingly. 

She gets her knees under her as they kiss, throwing a leg over his thighs until she’s straddling him, her entire torso pressed against his. He groans as her breasts press into his chest, and he feels himself stir as he’s surrounded by her; her hair and her scent and her limbs and her warmth. It takes a monumental strength of will to stop himself from grinding his hips into hers, to prevent his arms from tightening around her to make her arch her back to press her breasts more firmly into his chest. 

Instead he slows their kissing to gentle pecks. Their lips catch in a lazy, lingering kiss before they part, and Anne’s smile pressed into his makes his heart stutter in his chest. 

“Am I dreaming?” Gilbert murmurs against her soft cheek. “No wait, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know yet.”

She giggles, and he yelps as she tugs sharply at his hair. “You’re not dreaming, Gil. I promise.”

He chuckles, saying, “You’re always assaulting me, Anne-girl.”

“Mmmm,” she murmurs before kissing him again, her hips pressing into his as she moves. “You hit a guy in the head with a textbook _once_ , and you never hear the damn end of it, jeez.”

“If you keep kissing me I’ll let you hit me with the textbook again and I’ll never bring it up,” he promises, his hands wandering down her sides to her thighs, his fingers dancing over her bare skin. 

She kisses him again obligingly. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Blythe.”

He suddenly can’t bear to be talking when he could be kissing her, so he nudges her closer with his fingers under her chin and kisses her softly. He takes her hand from his hair and links their fingers together against his chest. He pulls away to kiss each of her fingers adoringly, then her palm, then her wrist. 

Anne’s smile is soft as she watches him press gentle kisses into her skin. She moves her wrist away from his mouth, tracing his lips with her fingers before she latches her mouth to his jaw, her kisses light as air as they travel up to his ear. He sucks her fingers into his mouth playfully, groaning as she kisses behind his ear. His hips jerk in pure reflex, his hardening length pressing against her spread thighs. She gasps in surprise against his cheek, bringing her lips back to his. 

He tries to pull back a little, but she’s basically pinned him down and he has nowhere to shift his hips to so that his erection isn’t pressing into her. He doesn’t try very hard to stop kissing her though, sipping at her lips like she is the fountain of life itself. 

(Also he feels like he’s been waiting all his life to kiss her, and he isn’t going to be able to stop now that he finally can.)

She moans softly as they kiss, her hand on his cheek trailing down his neck and to his chest. He groans as she starts to move her hips with purpose, a delicious friction against his cock that makes him sigh against her lips.

“Anne,” he says, her name torn from his mouth before he realises he’s said anything. “Fuck…Anne, we - ”

His hands tighten on her waist, trying to stop her movements as he begins to pant softly against her lips. 

“Hey, Gil?” she whispers against his mouth, kissing the corner of it gently.

All he can manage is a low “Yeah?”, reaching up to kiss her again. 

“It’s usually really great what a gentleman you are, and I love that about you, but I’m gonna need you to be a _little_ less of a gentleman right now.” 

Gilbert laughs, burying his face into her hair and ignoring her use of the L word for the moment. She shrieks as he suddenly flips them over so she’s lying on her back with him propped up over her. 

“And exactly how much of a cad am I allowed to be, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert?” Gilbert breathes into her ear, delighting in her full-bodied shiver.

“A cad?” she asks, giggling. “Have you been reading Pride and Prejudice again, Mr. Blythe?”

He just brushes his lips against her neck, Anne letting out a soft ‘oh’ at the sensation. He kisses the underside of her jaw, trailing his lips down her graceful neck to the sound of her appreciative sighs. 

“Gil,” she gasps as he very gently presses his teeth into her collarbone. 

His hand grasps tightly at one of her thighs, hooking it over his hip as he settles into place over her. He tries to hold some of his weight on his forearms but Anne’s having none of it, snaking her arms around his back and pulling him flush against her. 

“I want you close,” she whispers against his cheek like it’s a secret. 

His chest positively explodes with emotion; it’s a wonder Anne doesn’t feel it, their chests pressed together as they are. He kisses her, his mouth unyielding against hers, like he’s trying to fuse their lips together. His pants are beginning to feel a little tight, but he ignores his body yelling at him to do something about it. He focuses on Anne instead; the sounds she makes into his mouth as they kiss, the taste of her as their tongues tangle, the hopeless tangle of her hair that’s still so very soft to the touch, the smell of her petal-soft, freckle-covered skin. Her hand that’s not tangled in his hair scratches down his back, crinkling his shirt in her fist. 

She slips her hand under his shirt to touch his back, exploratory and curious. He jerks away from her kiss when her hand strays to his side. 

“Sorry,” he says, leaning his forehead against her temple. “That tickled.”

She grins mischievously, but obligingly moves her hand away from the sensitive area to the small of his back. “Don’t think I won’t use that against you. You’ve trusted me with extremely dangerous information.”

He smiles and brushes his lips behind her ear, pressing a soft kiss there that makes her gasp and wrap her legs around him tightly. His hand grips at her thigh as she pulls his face back to hers and kisses him again. He lets his hand wander up her side, squeezing at her waist before tracing her ribs through her (his) shirt. 

“I can’t believe I’m here,” he says, watching her arch her back at his touch. “In bed with you, you in my shirt.”

She giggles. “I heard that old high school hockey jerseys are the sexiest of all lingerie these days, haven’t you heard?”

“I know you meant that as a joke, but I am not kidding when I say you look so incredibly sexy right now.”

Anne rubs her nose against his, smiling bashfully. “You think so?”

He pulls back to look at her; her hair spread over her pillow and lit by the sun, the shirt slipping off one shoulder to reveal a freckled shoulder. He noses at her shoulder, pulling the shirt further off and pressing his mouth to the newly revealed skin. She tilts her head to give him more room, moaning as he starts to use his tongue to leave trails of goosebumps on her skin. 

“I want to kiss you everywhere, Anne,” Gilbert says, his voice rough with desire. “Put my mouth on every inch of your skin.”

She whimpers as his mouth travels back to her neck, using her grip on his curls to guide him to where she wants him. 

“Maybe…maybe after a couple of dates I’ll let you kiss me wherever you want, Gil,” she gasps, her grip on his shirt making it ride up his back. 

He’s almost painfully hard, and her hands press into the dimples in the small of his back, bringing his hips flush against her core. He sighs as she encourages him to rub against her, groaning as her hands become more insistent.

It’s almost hot enough to make him forget the whole ‘taking her on dates’ comment. 

“Is this… Anne, is this okay?”

“ _Gil_ …” she complains as he slows down their movement. 

She pushes his shirt further up his back, and he lets her take it off, both of them uncoordinated and the furthest thing from graceful. 

“Is _that_ okay?” she asks, pulling him closer with her hands running up and down his back. 

He chuckles, his brain short-circuiting at her hands on his skin, at the thought of the single layer of fabric separating his bare chest from hers. “You know you’re supposed to ask _before_ you do it, right?”

She blushes, kissing his neck and nuzzling her nose against it, _very_ effectively shutting him up. 

“For the record,” she says, her hands trailing down to the small of his back. “This is all very,” she kisses him deeply, lingeringly. “Very okay.”

“Just…tell me to stop, at any time and I will. Okay?”

She smiles. “I know, Gil. Kiss me.”

He smiles back at her, kissing her cheek and trailing his lips down to her jaw. Her nails dig into his back as he tugs on her earlobe with his teeth, letting his hand wander down her side. At her moan, he grips at her hip as her small hands squeeze his ass. 

“Anne-girl… I think my brain isn’t working anymore.”

Her kiss is wild and her moan is surprised as he thrusts against her. He gives in to the feel of her, to the ferocity of her kiss. He groans as she bites on his bottom lip, grinding into her firmly. 

“Say that again,” she demands breathlessly.

“That my brain isn’t working anymore?” he asks, almost dazed at the passion in her kiss. 

She shakes her head. “The other thing,” she says, her hands on his ass pulling his hips tight against hers as they grind together, her whole body pressed into his.

He can barely summon a smirk onto his face. “What other thing would that be…Anne-girl?”

She sighs shakily, pulling him into a fierce, mind-numbing kiss. She coaxes his tongue into her mouth, sucking on it lightly and sending a delicious shiver through his body.

“I’ve thought about you calling me that when we’re…like this,” she pants against his lips. “I really like it.”

“I never would have guessed from that kiss, Anne-girl,” he rumbles in reply. 

“Stop that,” she says, sounding almost helpless. “It sounds way too good.”

“You _feel_ too damn good. You have no idea how much I…how _long_ I’ve thought about…”

Her eyes darken even as they light up, and it’s a strange and beautiful thing to witness. “Me too, Gil,” she whispers, kissing him again.

Her (his) shirt rides up her stomach, and he trails a hand over the warm skin there. Her stomach contracts at his touch and she gasps. 

“That feels nice,” she says, panting at his exploratory touch, her head thrown back into her pillow.

He buries his face into her neck, sucking lightly at her pulse point as he slips his hand under her shirt, tracing her ribs and squeezing her there.

“Okay?” he asks, his voice completely unrecognizable. 

“Don’t stop,” she says, her hand finding his. Looking straight into his eyes, she pulls his hand up to cover her breast, making his heart and his breath come to a stutter-stop. “Keep…keep going.”

He squeezes her breast gently as her hands travel back down to his ass, encouraging his gentle thrusts. She moans when his thumb finds her nipple, rubbing circles around the tip of her breast. 

“Gil,” she breathes, her back arching into his touch. “Gil, that feels…”

He kisses her again, wanting to taste her, her pleasure-dazed face beckoning to him. “You’re so beautiful, Anne-girl. You’re always so goddamn beautiful.”

She laughs breathlessly against his lips, making him smile before he kisses her nose, and then her lips. She lets go of him, and for a moment he thinks she wants them to stop, and reluctantly readies himself to get off her.

Until she takes off her shirt, throwing it behind him somewhere, and his heart gives out entirely.

His gaze wanders her body, her small, perfect breasts, her nipples the exact shade of pink of her lips. She’s covered in freckles, and he wants to press his mouth to every single one. His hand cups her breast gently before travelling down her stomach, his thumb dipping into her navel. Her hands squeeze his shoulders and travel down his chest and stomach as he keeps staring at her, smiling at her. 

And while the sight of her bared torso is utterly bewitching, the best sight is the smile on her face, a little self-conscious, but overwhelmingly fond, _trusting_. 

“Anne…” he says on a sigh, unable to come up with words for what he’s seeing, what he’s feeling.

She wraps her arms around him when he lowers himself to kiss her, finally feeling the press of her bare skin on his, her breasts pressed into his chest. His body erupts with warmth, his love for her pouring out of his chest, out of his every pore. 

“I was promised your mouth on me,” she says, smirking. “Or was that just tough-guy talk?”

Gilbert can’t help but burst out laughing. “What the hell in our experience together makes you think _I’m_ a tough guy?”

Her grin is wide and her kiss is sweet. “Okay, yeah, fair enough.”

The words get stuck in his throat right at that moment. 

_I love you. I love you so freaking much._

He swallows them down, kissing her neck instead, his mouth wandering down to her chest. She runs her fingers through his curls as he brushes his lips against the sensitive underside of her breast. She lets out a soft “mmmm” as he sucks her nipple into his mouth, his thumb circling her other nipple lazily. He looks up at her to see her watching him as he mouths at her breasts. He doesn’t break the eye contact as he kisses and sucks his way across her chest to her other breast. He sucks on her other nipple, watching as her jaw drops and her head tilts back. Both her hands tangle in his hair, holding him to her chest as she pants. 

“Anne-girl,” he growls. “God, Anne, I want you so much.”

She pulls him up to kiss him, and his hand massages her breast as their kisses become fierce and deep and insistent. Her legs tighten around his waist possessively, and he groans appreciatively.

“God why did you even fall asleep in jeans Gil, I swear to god,” she mutters between kisses.

“If you wanted me to take my pants off all you had to do was ask,” he says cheekily.

She giggles, saying, “Well if all I have to do is ask, I guess I’m asking Gil.”

And then she rubs herself against him, and he moans into her mouth, grinding his hips into her. She moves with him, pulling away from his kiss so they lock eyes. He pushes her hair away from her face as they grind, tracing her ear when she gasps. 

“In a minute, Anne-girl,” he promises. “I don’t really feel like moving away from you right now.”

She cries out , her nails digging into his shoulder as he assumes he grinds against her clit through the layers of fabric.

“There?” he asks, his voice low, plucking at the stiff peak of her nipple.

She nods, pulling his forehead to hers. “Right there,” she says. “It feels so…you’re making me feel so good. So fucking good.”

He’s just about to pull himself away from her to get rid of his pants so he can get back to making her feel good, to mouthing at her delectable neck…

When they hear her bedroom door slam open and someone starts to scream.


	4. Words synonymous with Gilbert Blythe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne and Gilbert deal with their interrupted morning, and have a lovely conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so enjoyed all the guesses as to who interrupted Anne and Gilbert and whose first reaction was to start screaming. I hope this doesn't disappoint!

Anne screams as Gilbert instinctively covers her body with his.

She tucks her face into his shoulder like that will help hide her identity when they’re in _her bedroom_ , and he can’t help but laugh and nuzzle into the crown of her head for a moment despite the screaming he still hears behind him.

He looks over his shoulder to see a delighted Cole MacKenzie and a screaming Diana Barry who has her hands over her eyes. 

“I CALLED THIS!!” Cole yells gleefully. “I CALLED THIS WHEN I WAS THIRTEEN AND DIDN’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ANYTHING AND I STILL FUCKING CALLED THIS!!”

“Get _out_ ,” Gilbert says, mortified but laughing, scrambling for the covers that they had kicked to the foot of the bed and finding that they were too far for him to reach while still hiding a topless Anne.

“What the _hell_ , Anne?” Diana yells, still covering her eyes and still unmoving. “You ask us to breakfast then let us walk in on _this_??”

“Shit,” Anne mutters into his neck. “I’m so sorry, it totally slipped my mind - “

“Clearly!” Diana screams, even more high pitched than before.

“Nothing _happened_ , Di!” Anne exclaims.

“Seriously??” Diana yells, her face almost purple. “Gilbert is half naked on top of you! You are half naked under him!”

“You know Di, for someone who had her eyes covered almost straightaway,” Cole says, grinning like a maniac. “You sure have a pretty good idea about where he is and which of his clothes he still has on.”

“ _He_ ,” Gilbert says, not sure if they even hear him. “Is _right here_ , and can still hear you.”

“You can both yell at me later,” Anne offers, peeking out over his shoulder. “I’ll call you, I promise, please just _get out of here_!!”

“Does this mean we’re not getting breakfast?” Cole asks gleefully.

“COLE!” Three different voices yell.

Diana starts pulling Cole out of the room, bumping into various articles of furniture with her hand still over her eyes. Cole is yelling as he goes, saying, “NO DIANA STOP, I NEED DETAILS, WHY ARE YOU DRAGGING ME OUTSIDE I’VE SEEN HER BOOBS A THOUSAND TIMES.” He stops to look at a laughing Gilbert, saying, “You know I’m gay, her boobs do nothing for me I’m just her unofficial stylist I’m probably way more attracted to your back than her boobs please don’t hit me you have a very nice back.”

Gilbert and Anne are still laughing when Diana knocks over a chair on her way out of the room with her eyes still covered and Cole yells from the living room that, “You better call me with fucking _details_ , Anne Shirley-Cuthbert! But please carry on, don’t let us stop you, you know where the condoms are. Also, we’re getting breakfast tomorrow! Also, Diana is blushing so hard I think she’s having a heart attack. Have fun, kids!”

“Fuuuuuuck,” Anne complains into his shoulder. “That did _not_ just happen.”

“Unless we both just shared a very specific hallucination and knocked that chair over with our minds, it kinda did just happen,” Gilbert replies, still chuckling.

She pulls away from him, her lips twitching as she says, “This is _not_ funny!”

He grins widely. “It’s a _little_ funny.”

Anne’s repressed smile explodes into a laugh as she pulls him into a hug. Gilbert happily lies in her arms, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. 

“Has Cole really seen your boobs a thousand times?” he asks, smiling into her shoulder.

“Oh my god Gil, shut _up_!” she wails, pulling his hair. “You are not funny!”

“Okay, okay I’m sorry,” he says, laughing as she pulls his hair again. “Anne, I’m sorry!”

She pinches his shoulder, trying to hide her smile again. “No you’re not. You are _not_ sorry, you’re a giant disaster of a man - “

He kisses her, both of them still smiling. “Forgive me, Queen Anne,” he murmurs against her lips, kissing her again. “I’m sorry.”

Her dimple deepens under his thumb as she smiles. “A likely story, Gilbert Blythe.”

“It’s true,” he says, his smile pressed into hers. 

She pushes him off her, and he, still laughing, falls onto his back next to her. He makes a sound of protest as she sits up, but she doesn’t leave the bed, simply reaching for her shirt and pulling it back on, the smooth skin of her back disappearing from view. He smiles and sits up too, shuffling forward so she’s sitting between his legs. He pulls her into his arms, letting her back rest against his chest, and kisses her shoulder as he puts his arms around her waist. 

She hums happily as she leans into him, resting her arms over his. She turns around to kiss his chest, and he kisses her temple. 

“This is nice,” she says, pressing her cheek to his chest, smiling. At his replying hum into her hair, she continues, “Cole was right by the way. You have a _very_ nice back.”

Gilbert chuckles softly. “You certainly copped a good feel, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert.”

“You’re talking to _me_ about copping a feel right now? You’ve been all hands today, Blythe.” 

He buries his face into her neck, smiling, even though the ‘I love you’ is crowding his throat so much it’s painful. 

“You really are…” She looks up expectantly at his pause, and he says, “I still think I’m dreaming but, everything that just happened, minus Cole and Diana, hilarious as that whole thing was…it was amazing. And _you_. Anne, you are so, so beautiful.”

“You mentioned that,” she says, leaning further into him and stroking down his jaw. “Several times, in fact.”

He nuzzles into her hand. “I can’t say it enough. I want to tell you you’re beautiful every time I look at you.” 

She scrunches her nose adorably. “Even when I yell at you about stuff?”

“ _Especially_ when you yell at me.” He grins. “Your face gets all flushed and your eyes get to be this colour that literally looks like a storm, and I wonder what you’d do if I just swooped in and kissed you.”

“Is that so?” She kisses his jaw. “What about when I blow up at you for no discernible reason? And your eyebrows start to go all crazy cause you’re wondering what you did and what I’m upset about?”

“My eyebrows?”

She laughs. “Don’t pretend you don’t know that your eyebrows have a life of their own. I’ve had full conversations with your eyebrows. They have extensive opinions on every perplexing thing you hear.”

He laughs, squeezing her as she kisses his jaw again. The ‘I love you’ is right on the tip of his tongue and he thanks his lucky stars that he has so much practice swallowing the words back down. 

Anne looks up at him, and the look on her face brings him back to a night on a balcony when they were seventeen and he had still been with Winifred; one of the many, many times he had wanted to kiss her. Her face is shining and her eyes are full of tenderness, and he can’t believe it’s him that she’s looking at like that, that he could kiss her right then if he wanted to. 

“I think you’re beautiful too, Gilbert Blythe,” she whispers. “Even if your eyebrows sometimes talk to me all on their own.”

“Kind of you to give the eyebrows a special mention.” 

“It’s not even a conscious choice; eyebrows are just synonymous with Gilbert Blythe now. It’s on Merriam-Webster; look it up.”

“Then surely ‘beautiful’ is synonymous with Anne Shirley-Cuthbert,” he says, kissing the crown of her head. “And ‘passionate’. ‘Soulful’.”

“Stop being nice to me when I make fun of you!” she exclaims. “I thought for sure you’d talk about my temper or my habit of running away from you when things get…”

She shifts in his arms as she trails off, and he kisses her temple, waiting as she works up the nerve to say something.

“As long as we’re talking about things synonymous with Gilbert Blythe,” she says quietly, feathering her fingers down his jaw. “If I could use one word to describe you it would be…steadfast.”

He blinks at her in surprise, and she smiles as she turns around to face him, straddling him and cupping his face in her hands. 

“You’re just always…there. So wonderfully _good_ and dependable and kind, even when you don’t have to be. In a world where Marilla and Matthew and Diana and Cole and so many other people in all their wondrous-ness have come to love and take care of me, the fact that you’re the one that I…that I rely on to show me how good the world can truly be makes me think that maybe… Maybe one of the truly wonderful things about the world to me is that you’re in it.”

He swallows past the lump in his throat, blinking away the tears that pool in his eyes. “Anne,” he croaks. “Anne-girl, that must be the most wonderful thing anyone’s ever said to me. I mean,” he laughs unsteadily as a tear slips down his cheek and Anne wipes it away tenderly. “My dad saying that he was proud of me and that he’ll always love me was pretty great too, but…”

Anne laughs too, just as shakily as him. He pulls her closer as he lies back down, and she tucks her face into his neck. He cups the back of her head, breathing her in as she puts her hand on his chest, right over his heart. He breathes deeply, just holding her like he’s wanted to since he was thirteen. 

He kisses her forehead as she traces shapes into his chest, pushing her hair behind her ear, and playing with the ends of the fiery tresses that’s tickling his ribs. He sees her smile when she realizes what he’s doing, but she doesn’t say anything. She just hums happily and cuddles closer, continuing to run her fingers over his chest as she closes her eyes, a gentle smile on her face.

It’s the worst case of the rising _I love you_ in his throat yet. 

He takes her hand off his chest and kisses the words into her palm tenderly, and then her wrist and her knuckles. When he looks up at her, she’s looking at him with that familiar, curious gaze. 

“What are you thinking when you look at me like that?” he asks, still looking at her as he kisses her palm again. “You usually run away seconds later and I’ve never been able to ask.”

She smiles. “Diana calls it my ‘Gilbert Blythe confuses me’ face. After all these years of her and Cole teasing me about it in your presence _very loudly_ , I’m surprised you don’t know about it yet.”

He laughs. “And what, may I ask, is so confusing about me that I’ve seen this face so many times over the years?”

“Just...” She tucks her face into his neck, kissing him there. “The fact that you keep sticking around, despite my mood swings and how complicated I am and how confusing it must be when I just...fly off the handle sometimes when you’ve done nothing wrong....”

He hums against her hair and tightens his arms around her waist. “I mean, we’re all complicated, Anne-girl. I’d never hold something like that against you; you’re only human.” She kisses him, smiling, before letting him continue. “As for the rest of it, you know there’s one very simple explanation right?”

“Oh yeah?” She smiles cheekily. “And what might this simple explanation be?”

“That you’re amazing,” he says easily. “And no matter what I do, I can’t help but want to be around you, all the time.”

He feels her smile against his skin. “Well a simple explanation like that is easy to accept now when we’re all...” She gestures vaguely towards their entwined bodies. “Well, _this_. But denial is a thing that exists, okay? Especially in high school.”

Gilbert chuckles. “You know another thing that existed in high school? Your obsession with getting me to ask out Ruby Gillis. Do you have any idea how many times you crushed me? Making me think you were finally on board with _us_ and it would always turn out that you were just talking about her?”

Anne snorts, burying her giggles into his chest. “Ruby’s crush on you was hard on everyone, Gil! Not just you! And there I was, the not so new girl who still felt like I needed to get the girls to like me, and me doing whatever they said because Ruby had dibs on you and you being so insistent and infuriating and all the girls in high school glaring at me whenever you so much as looked at me and… All of this was not exactly the best circumstances for sorting through all of my complicated feelings about you, on top of everything else. Confusion was my constant state of being, back then.”

He strokes the back of her neck soothingly. “The high school experience might be...a _little_ less complicated than that for guys,” he says sympathetically. 

“Exactly,” she says, chuckling. “You got off easy, Mr. Blythe, with everyone worshipping the ground you walked on.” 

“Exaggeration!” he protests, running his fingers through her hair. “Besides, you were always there to bring me crashing down to earth whenever my head got too big.”

“A task I took to with great enthusiasm,” she teases. She kisses his cheek gently, continuing, “My wrath wasn’t always warranted though, and I am sorry that I was mean to you for no reason sometimes.” 

He smiles and kisses her, saying, “Water under the bridge.”

She hums against his lips in protest. “Don’t let me off so easy! I demand you make me feel bad first! Bring up a very specific example of a time you were just being helpful and I started yelling, right now!”

“Not a chance,” he says gently as he kisses her again. 

She frowns, pulling away a little as he caresses her thigh. “At least give me that infuriating smirk first so I can be annoyed.”

He laughs, saying, “Nope. You’re just gonna have to accept that you’ve long been forgiven.”

“Ugh,” she says, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his chest. “You’re so _annoying_.”

“Yeah, you seem really cut up about it,” Gilbert says, laughing at how close she’s cuddled against him. 

She chuckles like it pains her to do so. “I hate you, Gilbert John Blythe.”

“Clearly.” He squeezes her, still chuckling. 

They both fall into a comfortable silence, holding each other close. Gilbert buries his nose in Anne’s hair and inhales deeply, happy to hold her as long as she’ll let him. They lie there, breathing each other in, thinking in the quiet.

“Just to clarify, this isn’t just a…a random ‘it happened and we’ll never speak of it again’ thing, is it?” Anne asks softly, her eyes intent on the shapes she’s tracing on his bare chest.

Gilbert rouses himself from his semi-fugue state and kisses her forehead. “It isn’t to me, Anne-girl.”

She looks up at him, doe-eyed and hesitant. “Yeah?”

He laughs. “Do you really, _really_ not know that already? Was I not as obvious as I thought I was being all these years?”

She blushes, saying, “It was obvious to everyone but me, I think. Do you have any idea how many times Di and Cole have almost ripped their hair out trying to convince me that you liked me too?”

His heart almost explodes at ‘too’, and then when he semi-recovers from that it almost explodes again working up the nerve to say what he needs to say. “Well…Anne, I don’t think that _like_ …quite covers it. Anymore.”

He practically clamps his mouth shut trying not to say any more than that.

She props herself up on her elbows, brushing his hair off his forehead and looking focused and curious. “What?”

Gilbert sighs and rubs his face. He sits them both up so she’s in his lap, still straddling him, and hugs her tightly. And even though he can tell that she really needs to hear an answer, she holds him for as long as he needs, and he feels her endless courage feed his, flooding his heart with more love than he thought possible.

“This isn’t,” he starts slowly as he pulls away to look at her. “I’ve had a long time to get used to…how I feel about you. To how _much_ I feel about you.”

She gets that look on her face again; the one that’s so full of tenderness it makes his chest swell with emotion. Seeing it from across the room used to make him want to crush her to his chest.

Seeing it when she’s sleep-rumpled in his lap, looking like she’s been thoroughly kissed and hiding her smile in her eyes, makes him want to drop to one knee and fucking propose. 

“I guess I don’t want to freak you out with _all_ of it just yet,” he says honestly. “I know that words are important to you, but the words, well _word_ , I would use to tell you how I feel would be…a lot. And we’ve only _just_...I’ve never even asked you out or talked to you about, you know, _us_. It would be like going from zero to a hundred.”

She trails her fingers down his jaw thoughtfully. “When you say _all of it_ , do you… Gil if I didn’t have such a history of running away from you the moment it feels like we’re finally about to say something or do something about all of… _this_ , would you just come out and tell me how you feel about me right now?”

He laughs. “First of all, you wouldn’t be _you_ if you hadn’t run away from me ten thousand times in the past, Anne-girl.” He kisses the adorable pout off her face, continuing, “And second of all, that has nothing to do with…”

He sighs as he trails off, and Anne, lovely, heart-too-big-for-her-chest Anne, she smiles at him like he’s the best thing she’s ever seen. His poor, abused heart triples in size, and he presses her hand into his chest so she can feel how it beats, quickened and stuttering but still strong, for her.

“I know that there are rules that people follow,” she says, stroking his chest and fiddling with his chest hair. “Wait three days before you text, don’t put out on the first date, don’t drop the L word until you’ve been dating for x number of months, all that stuff that people have just made up and decided that it matters. But you and I…”

“We’re sworn enemies of convention?” he guesses, unable to help his grin as he tightens his arms around her waist, pulling her closer.

“Exactly. And honestly Gil, if you think about it we’ve been on, I don’t know, ten thousand dates since high school. You’re the person I spend most of my time with, aside from Di and Cole. We’ve both stopped seeing other people for ages now. We’ve been in this kind of sexless quasi-relationship that I _adore_ , and...I think our relationship left the boundaries of conventional dating rules a long time ago.” She wraps her arms around his shoulders and leans her forehead on his temple, kissing his ear before she whispers into it, “I guess what I’m saying is, we’re not exactly going from zero to a hundred. We’re already at a solid 65 or so. So, if you’d maybe like to break the terrible convention of not telling me how you feel about me before we’ve even started dating, that would be _absolutely_ fine by me.”

“So if I told you - “ He takes courage from her shining, hopeful eyes, gulping before he continues, “Fuck, I… I’m in love with you, Anne-girl. I’ve loved you for so long I don’t remember what it’s like not to be in love with you. I think I’ve loved you ever since you cracked my head open with that textbook at school.”

She gasps in mock offense, even as her eyes shine with delight. “I did not crack your head open, they said you weren’t even concussed!”

Gilbert laughs his nerves away as he kisses her, murmuring against her lips, “You know, that’s exactly what I thought you’d say the first time I told you that I love you.” She giggles happily against his lips, and he continues, “Is it weird that you had to cajole me into saying it?”

She shakes her head, their noses brushing. “It was perfect.”

“Yeah?”

“ _Yes_ , Gil.”

He grins. “Hey. Guess what?”

She smiles back. “What?”

“I love you, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. I love you so very much.”

Anne laughs softly, shyly hiding her face in his neck. 

“Does that freak you out?” he asks softly, stroking the back of her head.

She’s quiet for a long moment. He would freak out if she wasn’t still comfortably sitting in his lap, unwilling to stop touching him, but the silence is still a little nerve-wracking.

“There have been so many times in the past two days _alone_ ,” Anne says. “That I have almost blurted out that I love you while we were doing the most boring, mundane things.”

He’s pretty sure he stops breathing. Pre-med never taught him what to do when he stops breathing of his own volition. 

“Yesterday you handed me my coffee and I wanted to tell you that I love you. You laughed at a dog chasing its tail when you were walking me to class and I wanted to grab your face and tell you that I adore your laugh and _you_. You texted me a meme that reminded you of me and I almost said it right there and then. In a text. Can you imagine, Gil? Me and my big ideas and my love for all things romantic and I almost told you I love you in a _text_.”

“You…what?” he asks dumbly as her hands cup his face.

She grins, soft and slow and a little unsure, surrounded by sunlight. “Here’s what I eventually settled on when I was trying to decide how to tell you,” she says softly. “Gilbert, I’m afraid I’m scandalously in love with you."

_When?_ He wants to ask. _How? Why?_

“Did you really not know that already?” she asks cheekily, echoing his words from earlier. 

“I…” he says, breathless and light-headed. “I mean I had certainly _hoped_. But my imagination isn’t as amazing as yours and all I could... I hoped that maybe we’d start dating. And that I’d have to swallow down my I love yous until a few months later and that you’d freak out for a few months about it before you said it back and...” He cups her cheek in his hand, saying, “I never would have dared to dream that you’d say you love me right at the beginning like this. I should know better by now than to think that I can predict how anything would play out when you’re involved, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert.”

Her smile is so blinding it puts the sunlight around her to shame. “I really do love you, Gil. So utterly and completely.”

“And scandalously,” he adds, still a little dazed.

“That too,” she says, before cupping his face in her hands and kissing him tenderly. What was intended to be a soft peck drags on as they both refuse to let go. Anne deepens the kiss, making him sigh as she strains to get closer. 

“Gil,” she whimpers as he lowers her to the bed, getting on top of her and kissing her fiercely. 

“I love you, Anne,” he says, his voice rough with need. 

Her smile is soft despite the intensity of her hands on his skin. “I love you too, Gil.”

“I think I need you to pull my hair again.”

“Gladly,” she says, pulling him to her to kiss him, her hands tugging roughly at the hair on the base of his neck. He groans into her kiss as she wraps her long legs around him. 

She gasps as his kisses trail down her neck, as he noses at her pulse point. She pulls him back up to kiss him, smiling as she does. 

“I have so many questions,” he admits, smiling with her, burying his face in her sweet-smelling hair. “You’re going to spend weeks answering them, Anne-girl.”

Her laugh is delighted and unrestrained, and he wants to always make her laugh like that. He tells her exactly that, and her blue-grey eyes become shiny with tears even as her smile remains bright as the sun.

She cups his cheek, saying, “You told me a long time ago that we were meant to be friends and that I’d thwarted destiny long enough by holding on to my childish grudge. Well I’m telling you now, that we were always going to end up _right_ _here_. I was _always_ going to end up being in love with you, and you’ve been so patient, letting me get here at my own pace instead of pushing me. And that was just one of the things that made it absolutely impossible _not_ to fall in love with you. I love you so much, Gil. And I’m somehow both sorry and not sorry that it took me this long to say it, because I put you through so much shit but also what we have now is - “

“Perfect,” he interrupts throatily. “This is perfect, Anne. I… I would have waited forever for you, but I’m really glad that I don’t have to.”

They both laugh, and when Anne’s tears spill down her cheeks, Gilbert wipes them away tenderly. Anne kisses his temple before pulling him into her arms, and she holds him as he laughs, joyful and relieved. 

“I’d gotten so used to being in love with you. But I always wondered what it’d be like to be loved by you,” Gilbert confesses into her neck. 

“Now I can show you,” Anne says softly into his hair, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have been leaving me the loveliest, most wonderful comments and making me cry so THANK YOU to everyone who left kudos and comments and bookmarked this fic. You guys are all the best and I am sending each and every one of you so much love and adoration ❤️
> 
> I will definitely be continuing with this fic for a bit, for those of you curious about Shirbert as a couple. I still have a couple ideas and I'm currently fleshing them out and still trying to figure out where the hell I'm going with this 😂 But I promise not to abandon this! I'll wrap it up with a nice little bow when I'm done, because closure is what we all deserve.


	5. Romantic notions made flesh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne and Gilbert suffer inanimate interruptions and a birthday party.

What Gilbert would have _liked_ to do is stay in bed with Anne Shirley-Cuthbert all day. 

She doesn’t seem to mind that he doesn’t want to stop touching her, or that he can’t get enough of her lips, or her neck, or her shoulders, or the smell of her hair. She holds him in her arms, her hands caressing his hair and his neck and his back as they lie there, and she giggles and sighs whenever he presses a kiss to whichever part of her he can reach.

Gilbert never thought that they’d spend the first few minutes of their new relationship in utter silence, but now that it’s happening, he can’t imagine it any other way. The way they’re holding each other seems to be all the talking they need.

And then his alarm rings.

“ _Nooooo_ ,” Anne protests as he groans, pulling himself away from her to hit snooze on his phone.

Her arms are still open and waiting as he drops his phone next to him and snuggles back into her side. He sighs as he presses his nose to her neck and strokes the soft skin of her stomach.

“I don’t want to go,” he says quietly. 

And then _her_ alarm goes off. 

“Seriously?” she says, half annoyed and half amused. “What is this day with all these interruptions?”

He reaches for her phone and hands it to her, and she hits snooze too. They stare at each other, smiling, and she pulls him in for a sweet, gentle kiss.

“I can’t miss class today,” she says regretfully. “This is what I get for deciding on our first sleepover on a Thursday night. I knew I should have waited til tomorrow. We could have stayed in bed all weekend."

Gilbert laughs. “I’m very glad you didn’t wait til tomorrow. We’ve waited long enough as it is, Anne-girl.”

Her smile is soft, as is her kiss. She sighs, saying, “But I don’t want you to go.”

“I don’t wanna go either.” He sighs. “But I can’t miss class today either. And I have study group this afternoon.”

Anne laughs. “I’ll never get over that. Who but you and your overachieving friends would be done with classes by noon on Friday and then decide, hey we haven’t worked hard enough to deserve this two and a half day weekend. We’ll spend the rest of Friday studying!”

He chuckles. “You’d do the same, and don’t think I don’t know it. How far ahead are you with your reading list this semester for Romanticism again?”

She blushes prettily as she acquiesces. “Fair point. I still don’t want you to go.”

He pulls her into his arms and kisses the top of her head. “Five more minutes. Then I really have to go. I need to head home and take a shower and change.”

She kisses his chest and the hollow of his throat. “Will I see you later at Moody’s birthday party?”

“Yes you will, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert.”

“And…could I maybe see you after that too?”

He smiles into her hair. “Yes. Please. Do you want to grab a very late supper?

“It’s one of Moody’s parties, Gil. We’ll be stumbling around by the time it’s over; semi tipsy and very tired.”

“You…want me to come over instead?”

He feels her smile into his neck. “What I want is for us to stay in bed all weekend. If that’s okay with you?”

He kisses her forehead. “I’ll pack a bag for the weekend then.”

She props herself up on her elbow to smile at him. “Really?”

“I’d have happily spent the weekend with you anywhere, you know. It’s not just the ‘in bed’ part of it that I was tempted by.”

She laughs, kissing his cheek. “You really know how to make a girl fall in love with you, Gilbert Blythe.”

“Right back at you, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert.”

He’s about to kiss her when his snoozed alarm comes back to life, blaring that he doesn’t have time to stay in bed and make out with his girlfriend. 

God. Anne Shirley-Cuthbert is his girlfriend.

He has no time to deal with that revelation, hitting his snooze button again (when he, of course, intended to hit the off button) and reluctantly getting out of bed. Anne groans and drags herself up to her knees as he searches the floor for his shirt. He pulls it back on and lets Anne pull him in for a kiss, lazy and slow and so enticing he wants to push her back into the bed and have her legs wrapped around his waist as he tastes her skin. But they both have class to get to, and they reluctantly part. 

“I’ll see you later,” he says, kissing the corner of her mouth. “But I’d like to state for the record, _again_ , that I absolutely did not want to leave.”

Anne laughs as he sits back down to put on his shoes, kissing the back of his neck and cuddling into his back. He gathers his jacket and his bag, and Anne holds his hand as they walk to her front door. 

“This is so unfair,” she says as he kisses her goodbye. “I _love_ you. You’d think the universe would stop for a minute and let me enjoy that without being interrupted with the totally unromantic necessity of classes and lectures.” 

He can’t help the giant grin on his face. “I love you too, Anne-girl. This day is going to be interminable until I see you tonight.”

“And tomorrow,” she replies, smiling. “And the day after.”

His grin is absolutely _stupid_ as he walks away from her, letting go of her hand only when he absolutely has to. She lingers at her door, smiling, until he turns the corner to the elevator.

He bumps into Josie and Tillie while he’s waiting for the elevator, still smiling like an idiot. They take one look at his disheveled, smiley state and burst into chatter about how he doesn’t live there and did he spend the night at Anne’s and are they a thing now because it’s about damn time and he could really use a comb. 

He just grins and tells them to have a great day as he runs to his car. 

“Where’s your girl, Blythe? She said she was coming when I texted her.”

“Fuck off, Gardner.”

It’s not fair to say that Gilbert _hates_ Royal Gardner. No really, it _isn’t_. Sometimes he thinks the two of them could have one of those friendships where they’re constantly insulting each other in a purely good-natured fashion. Roy is funny, loyal, charming, well-connected and seemingly endlessly rich. None of which Gilbert has a problem with, it’s just…

Roy flirts with Anne _ceaselessly_ , outrageously and boldly; any one of which would have brought Gilbert another textbook to the head had he tried to do the same. Roy is always on Anne’s side when her and Gilbert have had a fight, no matter whose fault it was and who was right. Roy manages to make Anne’s friends fall in love with him without offending her, where their good opinion of Gilbert brings her endless vexation. Roy’s father had introduced Anne to a friend of his who worked in publishing, getting her a six-month internship at a publishing house that had her in conniptions when she got it, that had her gushing for the whole six months she had the pleasure of working there. Roy showers Anne with expensive presents that she only occasionally returns because they’re too extravagant, where Gilbert can sometimes only afford to press and laminate flowers that make him think of her. 

Roy also looks at Anne Shirley-Cuthbert like it breaks his heart to do so, and he doesn’t mind that one bit. 

Anne would have said this made Gilbert and Roy kindred spirits; the way Gilbert feels like he’s looking in the mirror when he sees the way Roy looks at Anne. Gilbert shudders at the thought. 

Roy Gardner is the romantic ideal that Anne has been rhapsodising about since she was about 16, and the fact that he is her romantic notions made flesh had always brought anxiety when pondered. It would have been easier if he was an asshole, someone who slept around with unsuspecting girls who then cried over him, someone who thought women were second to men, someone who left a trail of broken hearts, broken souls, wherever he went, someone who wore his riches and privilege like a crown. 

Sadly he’s just a decent guy who’s in love with Anne. 

So maybe in a world where Gilbert wasn’t in love with the same amazing woman as Roy Gardner, they could have been friends. But in this world, where Roy Gardner and the rest of the world can easily see how Gilbert feels about Anne, and Roy won’t stop _teasing_ Gilbert about it…

That makes Roy Gardner a pest and an annoyance, and him being a friend of Anne’s means that Gilbert can only occasionally express his annoyance satisfactorily. 

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Roy says, grinning easily. “What’s got your panties in a twist, sunshine? Are you and Anne on the outs again?” 

At Gilbert’s huff, Roy continues, “Really, Blythe? What did you do this time? Did you get the Bronte sisters mixed up again?”

“That happened _one time_ ,” Gilbert protests. “When I had only had like two hours of sleep or something.”

“Wouldn’t have thought that when I saw how red Anne’s face got,” Roy says gleefully. “Did you maybe at some point get confused between Eyre and Austen too?”

Gilbert rolls his eyes and thanks the good Lord when Moody stumbles into him, already slightly drunk.

“Gilbert!” Moody yells. “You made it!”

“Happy Birthday, Moody,” Gilbert says, amused, patting him on the back. “How are you doing?”

“Rubes gave me something, a drink with…with _tamarind_ in it? It tasted really good and now I feel a little floaty. Do girls give you tamarind when they’re trying to tell you something? Do you think she wants me to buy her shoes?”

Gilbert and Roy both laugh. “I think your girlfriend’s just trying to get you drunk, bud,” Gilbert says, laughing. “And hey, it’s your birthday. Maybe she wants to buy _you_ shoes.”

“Do I like shoes?” Moody asks very seriously. 

“Yes, Moody,” Roy chimes in. “You like whatever Ruby gets you because you love her, and you are both very disgusting about it.”

“I do love her,” Moody agrees cheerfully as Roy laughs. “She’s…she’s really pretty, you guys. Hey, Majesty, have you seen how pretty my girlfriend is?”

Gilbert swallows his guffaw, as Roy laughs. “It’s Royal, Moody. And yes, I’ve seen how pretty the lovely Ruby is.”

“She used to have a giant crush on Gilbert,” Moody supplies, and Roy’s eyes widen with unrestrained glee. “She only gave that a break in, what…was it senior year, man?”

“I don’t really remember,” Gilbert says carefully. “High school was a long time ago, right?”

“Not that long ago, Gilly boy,” Roy says, grinning. “Did Anne know?”

Moody laughs as Gilbert grimaces. “Forget Anne, the whole _school_ knew!” Moody says. “Gilly boy included.”

“ _Okay_ , Moody,” Gilbert cuts in before he can give Roy any more ammunition. “How about we get you back to Ruby, huh?”

“No need,” Ruby says, bustling into the kitchen where they are. “Here I am. Come on, Moodles.”

Gilbert bites back his grin at the nickname, exchanging looks with Roy as Moody drapes himself over Ruby’s back, smiling angelically.

“How are you guys doing?” Ruby asks brightly, patting Moody’s arm that he’s wrapped around her. “Need a drink or anything? I just tried making this cocktail with tamarind in it that everyone seems to like.”

“We’re fine, Rubes,” Gilbert says, smiling at her. “Is everyone here?”

“Anne’s not here yet, if that’s what you’re asking,” Ruby replies, smiling knowingly.

Roy opens his mouth to tease and Gilbert opens his mouth to protest when Anne blessedly rushes in, a whirlwind of red hair and blue fabric.

“I’m here, I’m here,” she says, attempting to hand Moody a brightly wrapped package and take off her coat at the same time. “Sorry I’m late, Rubes. Class ran a little late, and then I had an eye poking incident with some mascara and that was a whole _thing_. Is there anything you need me to do?”

“Yeah Anne, I kinda need you to take a breath,” Ruby says, giggling. “And don’t worry, everything’s done. Di somehow managed to decipher your diagram, with tears and mascara all over it by the way guys, and she put the decorations up for me.”

“That’s why she’s my best bosom friend,” Anne laughs, hugging Ruby and Moody. “Happy Birthday, Moods!”

“Thanks, Anne,” Moody says, smiling as he leans into Ruby. “Glad you could make it.”

To Gilbert’s surprise, Anne pays no mind to the fact that they haven’t told anyone about them yet (Cole and Diana having found out by… _accident_ and all) and slips an arm around his waist, nestling comfortably into his side. “Hi,” she says, smiling softly up at him, tilting her chin up for a kiss. 

He gladly obliges, giving her a kiss that’s halfway between quick and lingering, smiling at her. “Hey,” he replies, his voice low. “You look really pretty.” She scrunches her nose and smiles at the compliment, squeezing his waist affectionately, and he puts an arm around her as they turn to face everyone else. 

All of whom have fallen silent, Ruby looking delighted, Roy and Moody looking confused. 

“Did we know about this?” Roy asks Moody.

“So Josie and Tillie weren’t lying through their teeth about this morning?” Ruby squeals.

“This morning?” Anne asks, looking at Ruby, then at Gilbert.

“I uh, ran into them at the elevator when I was leaving,” Gilbert says, his voice low enough that only Anne can hear him. Or so he thinks.

“Leaving _where_?” Roy asks, grinning widely.

“None of your business, Gardner,” Gilbert says, rolling his eyes.

“No _way_ ,” Roy says, like Gilbert had actually answered the question.

“Okay, okay, clearly the girls need the kitchen for some girl talk like right now,” Ruby says before Gilbert can snap at Roy. “ _Shoo_ , get out of here, JOSIEJANETILLIEDIANACOLE GET IN HERE!”

“Delicate ears!” Moody protests as he gets handed off to Gilbert, who reluctantly lets go of Anne to put an arm around him and lead him to the living room. “Are you gonna make me drink more tamarind, Gilbert? Do you want to…shoes?”

Anne laughs behind him, the sound so enchanting that Gilbert wants to turn back and tug her back into his arms, but the girls and Cole rush past him to converge in the kitchen.

“Didn’t think you had it in you, Blythe,” Roy comments blandly as they settle on various couches in the living room. “You and Anne, huh? After all this time?”

Gilbert is sure his eyes are going to get stuck in a permanent eye roll, but Moody comes to his defence, saying, “Don’t listen to him, Gil. I always knew you and Anne would be endgame.”

Gilbert laughs. “You mean you _hoped_ me and Anne would be endgame so you’d have a chance with Ruby.”

“Guilty!” Moody laughs. “She’s so great. Anne too, but mostly Ruby.”

Gilbert’s eyes flicker to the kitchen before focusing on Moody, “Yeah she sure is. Ruby too, but mostly Anne.”

As Moody starts talking to Charlie, who’s just appeared, Gilbert finds himself checking on Roy with…concern? Not because Roy’s his friend or anything he just… He knows how _he’d_ feel if Anne suddenly walked into a kitchen and kissed Roy right in front of him, having imagined (and had nightmares of) the horror of the moment ever since Cole had dragged Roy into their lives. 

Roy looks…okay. He looks distracted by the squealing emitting from the kitchen, smiling absently as Cole’s ‘I fucking _told_ you’ makes everyone in the living room jump a little. When he meets Gilbert’s eye he smiles and gives a helpless but knowing shrug in response to Gilbert’s expression. 

“Anyone ever tell you that your eyebrows could write a novel, Blythe?” Roy asks. 

“Yeah, I’ve heard that from some people,” Gilbert replies cautiously.

“God, please don’t start _pitying_ me now,” Roy says, grimacing. “I’ve gotten used to our barely civil conversations. Don’t take that away from me.”

“I’d never.” Gilbert grins. “But are you…you know…”

“You wouldn’t be asking for my blessing, would you? I’m barely qualified to give it.”

Gilbert’s back to rolling his eyes, sighing. “Forget it, Gardner. I can’t even pretend to be a good person when you’re around.”

Roy laughs, and then gives Gilbert a pondering look, sobering slightly. 

“Don’t worry about me, Gilbert.” Gilbert starts at Roy’s use of his given name, knowing then that he was now, rare as it was, facing a thoroughly sincere Royal Gardner. “I’m friends with Cole, remember? I always knew you and Anne…well. I always knew this was coming.”

This is the reason why Gilbert can’t _completely_ dislike Royal Gardner; as much as Roy feels for Anne, as much as he flirts, as much as he spends significant amounts of his inheritance on her…Gilbert knows he’s held himself back. A lot.

When asked about Anne, Roy would always say that he knew Anne wasn’t his, that just because he was interested in her didn’t mean that she felt the same way, that even if he gave it his best shot it wouldn’t really matter in the end and that he appreciated the window of time in which he has a chance to spoil her. He never elaborated, but he’d always look at Gilbert in wordless acknowledgement that never failed to shock him into silence and confused disbelief. 

Once, during a trip back home to Avonlea that Roy had tagged along for, Roy and Gilbert had gotten drunk (not _together_ , just in each others’ vicinity) after a dinner with the gang. After a decadent amount of whiskey had been consumed, Roy had (finally) grumpily asked what on _earth_ Anne saw in Gilbert. Gilbert had collapsed into giggles for twenty minutes, barely getting out that Roy must be on some _good_ _stuff_ to think that, and that the idea that Anne would ever look at Gilbert that way was _ludicrous,_ and that he could only _dream_ about such a thing happening. Roy’s answering laugh had been pained as he asked if Gilbert’s blindness was genetic, saying that he didn’t know all he needed to do for Anne to look at him the way she did Gilbert was to be a dumbass. 

That night, they had both ended up collapsed against an alley wall and each other, crying; one in the depths of despair of seemingly unrequited but forever love, the other mourning a tragical love, doomed never to even begin. 

Poor Bash hadn’t known what to think when he had come to pick them up, and had unprecedentedly chosen to be gentle instead of teasing as he corralled them both into the car. 

They had both been appalled when Dellie woke them up for breakfast the next morning, finding themselves sprawled across the living room floor, and had never spoken of the incident or the conversation again. 

“I can’t say I’m sorry,” Gilbert says warily. “Because I can’t, I _won’t_ , be sorry about being with Anne. But I’m sorry about how it…about how you probably feel.”

Roy groans. “ _No_. Please, stop being nice and don’t you dare be thoughtful. I _don’t want_ to like you.”

Gilbert laughs. “Yeah. Same here, asshole.”

The girls trail out of the kitchen about ten minutes later, all of them shooting Gilbert knowing glances that he pretends not to see. Jane sings at him that Anne’s still in the kitchen, and Roy laughs as Gilbert gratefully makes his escape there to see her mixing some punch in a bowl. He buries his nose in her neck, slipping his arms around her waist. She’s unsurprised, squeezing his arm affectionately and kissing his head. 

“I missed you,” he murmurs into her neck, breathing her in and feeling her presence settle the uneasiness in his chest, in his stomach. 

“You saw me this morning,” she says. He can hear her smile as she nuzzles into the side of his head. 

“And?” he asks, grinning.

She chuckles softly. “And... I missed you too,” she admits, grudging but still nuzzling into his curls contentedly. “How was your overachieving study group?”

He straightens to kiss her, and she hums into his kiss, her fingers slipping into his hair to hold him there. 

“I was so distracted all day,” he whispers, looking around to make sure nobody else was there before continuing. “I kept remembering how you looked, lying under me.”

She gasps, a delicate flush rising on her cheeks even as she smiles shyly. “Gil!” she protests.

“Did I tell you what a good kisser you are?” he asks, watching her blush travel down her neck. “I can’t stop thinking about all the little noises you made into my mouth.”

She giggles. “Is that so?”

“The way your skin felt on mine, all of you pressed into me,” he continues, kissing her ear. “Your legs wrapped around me.”

“Sounds like you had a terribly unproductive day,” she remarks cheekily. “Especially for a study group full of overachievers who meet to study on Friday afternoons when they’re already done with classes for the week.”

“You have no idea,” he replies, chuckling. “Someone asked me a question about organisms, and distracted as I was, I apparently answered the question correctly, except that I kept saying orgasm instead of organism the whole time.” 

Her laugh is delighted and contagious. 

“Good to know where your head is at, while you’re thinking of me,” she says, kissing his jaw and grinning widely.

“That is _not_ where my head is at when I’m thinking of you. Well, not all the time.”

He kisses her as she giggles, and squeezes her gently before letting her go, letting her continue working on the punch. He smiles as he sees her throw in some violets and dandelions, making it an undeniably _Anne_ concoction. 

“Look who’s fully dressed!” a familiar voice exclaims from behind them. “I’m almost disappointed.”

Gilbert blushes as Cole MacKenzie strolls into view, winking at him as he grabs a water from the fridge. 

“I hope the rest of your morning was as... _fun_ as what I walked onto,” Cole says, grinning.

Anne laughs. “Shut up Cole. You’re offending Gil’s delicate sensibilities.”

“Yeah, Cole,” Gilbert replies dryly, still flushed. “My nerves are all a-flutter.”

“Was that an _overnight bag_ I saw stashed in Moody’s room with your cute little ‘I’m not a doctor, but I’ll take a look’ badge on it, Gilbert?” Cole asks, still grinning. “Where are you headed this weekend? Same place you were this morning, perhaps?”

“Join the CIA, why don’t you, MacKenzie,” Anne inserts. “If there was a war, we’d win in a week.”

“Damn straight, though I’m obviously not,” Cole says, opening his bottle of water and taking a sip. “Anne, please forgive me in advance for what I’m about to say.” Turning to Gilbert, he continues, “If you hurt her, I won’t have to end you, because Anne will do it herself. But you best believe I’ll be there helping her dispose of the body, and we’ll totally get away with it. We’ve seen How to Get Away with Murder.”

Anne laughs and Cole continues, “In fact, if Anne’s feeling too nice for murder that day I’ll do it myself. You may think my tiny ass wouldn’t be able to overpower you but I’d have all the force of all the angry gays behind me and I’d absolutely kick your ass. Don’t make me leave sweet little Dellie uncle-less.”

Gilbert can barely hold in his laughter. “Maybe you _should_ join the CIA, Cole. As amazing an artist as you are, your other talents are wasted in the art world.”

“Oh he’s good, isn’t he?” Cole mock-whispers to Anne. “With the sneaky compliments that I can’t help but be flattered by.”

“They don’t work on Anne,” Gilbert admits, looking at a flushed Anne who’s smiling bashfully, refusing to meet his eye.

“Oh yes they do,” Cole says, laughing. “She always gets so angry at herself for being flattered too, all ‘how _dare_ he call my hair pretty’ and ‘what does he mean my Native American name should be fire-haired dreamer, the _gall_ ’ and ‘how dare he scour all the bookshops in town to find a used copy of Jane Eyre with the sweetest inscription that made him think of me because I once said that old, broken things have such beauty to them, why would he even remember that, the _audacity_ ’ and…you guys better stop me, I have loads of these.”

Gilbert laughs. “I forget how much I like you sometimes, Cole. Thanks for reminding me.”

“Anytime,” Cole says, gliding out of the room. “If it doesn’t work out with Anne, come let me touch your back sometime.”

Cole is back in the living room before Gilbert can think of a response to that.

“He’s probably not kidding, you know,” Anne says, letting him carry the punch bowl for her to put it on the dining table with the food. “Most of his questions earlier were about whether or not I got to feel how your back muscles move.”

“That’s…an odd thing to be interested about.”

Anne kisses his cheek before pulling him towards the living room, saying, “I told him I was too distracted by your _very_ nice ass.”

He feels a rush of heat pool in his stomach, and is about to drag her into the first empty room he can find when they hear, “Yuck, I did _not_ want to know that!”

They turn around to see Josie bringing food to the table, and she says, “Stop forcing me to watch you guys be cute. Go somewhere public _right now_ before I throw up.”

“Sorry, Josie,” they both call out, laughing as they run away to the living room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I genuinely thought Anne and Gil would make it back to Anne's this chapter, but then Roy came along and I was just having too much fun with that?? I'm a sadist for putting Roy through all o'dat aren't I??
> 
> Thank you guys for being patient while this chapter refused to move from my brain to my word document. Really had to push to get this one out, and I didn't want to leave you guys hanging until NEXT weekend. That would have been cruel. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter!! I have been enjoying the fuuuuck out of your wonderful comments (some of which I haven't responded to yet because I've been crying at the sight of them every time I try 😁). Thank you all for being so supportive and so lovely. Much love!!
> 
> Quick update (and recommended fics):
> 
> The name “Moodles” was NOT original sadly lol. I saw it in this amazing fic by brothmobile called disasters of modern comings-of-age. Check it out for more fluff and smut and the in-denial Anne we all know and love. 
> 
> If you guys like this version of Roy, Rozmund has an AMAZING version of him that inspired this chapter in two different fics; “Roy causes mischief and Gilbert should thank him” and “(New story) Roy causes mischief and Gilbert deserves it”. They are both SO GOOD and I scream whenever I see an update 😁


	6. Gilbert Blythe; adorable enough to eat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gilbert steals Anne's most kindred spirits, and Anne and Gilbert head home for their weekend in bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's right I'm finally back!!! Why don't you guys just read the chapter, and I'll give my excuses for the delay down at the end okay? Okay! 😁

Even though all Gilbert wants is to be alone with Anne, he does have fun that night. She looks so pretty in the green halter top she has on that leaves her upper back bare, and she has the most enticing cluster of freckles disappearing into the back of her top that he wishes he could trace with his fingers. He sticks to one drink because he’s driving, leaving Anne free to drink as much as she wants. When he asks why she’s only had three drinks when she doesn’t have to drive and they don’t have any place to be in the morning, she says that they certainly have someplace to be _tonight_ and she really wants to be sober and fully herself when they get there.

Needless to say, he chokes on his punch and she thumps his back laughingly as he coughs.

Diana sidles up to them as Gilbert recovers his breath, saying, “What have you done to Gilbert _now_ , Anne?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Anne protests, laughing while she rubs soothing circles into Gilbert’s back. “He probably wanted to give me an excuse to practice the Heimlich or something.”

“Oh. Yeah,” Gilbert wheezes. “I willingly choke myself so people learn the Heimlich. That’s absolutely a thing that happens.”

Diana laughs at them, shaking her head. “Cole told me about the uh, man to man talk he had with you earlier, Gil. Have you recovered from that? It must have been a bit…Cole.”

Gilbert smiles at Anne. “That’s a great way of describing it. It _was_ very Cole. He comes across as adorable and hilarious even when he’s trying to be intimidating. But it was very sassy. And we all know I love how protective he is of Anne.”

“That’s right, we all do know that,” Diana says, smiling. “By the way, Roy and Charlie have teamed up to become the most horrifying karaoke duo the world has ever seen. Oh wait, is that why you guys are hiding?”

Gilbert can’t help but be intrigued. “What the hell are they singing and why can’t we hear them?”

“Apparently Moody’s apartment is more soundproof than we thought,” Diana replies, taking a sip of her tamarind cocktail. “They started off with ‘My heart will go on’, which went about as terribly as it sounds. They moved on to ‘Wannabe’, which Moody of course loved, and I left the room when they started contemplating One Direction.”

“A wise decision on your part, I’m sure,” Anne says, somehow both grimacing and laughing as she takes a sip of Diana’s drink. 

“I really gotta ask Ruby for this drink recipe,” Gilbert says when Anne hums appreciatively and Diana pours out another helping of the cocktail. “It seems to be going over really well.”

“Well I appreciate your loyalty in almost single-handedly finishing my punch,” Anne replies, smiling. 

“It’s not even loyalty if it’s as delicious as this,” Gilbert says, grinning widely as he holds up his half-empty cup of punch. 

“Jeez, this is even worse than walking in on you guys this morning,” Diana says, pulling away from Anne, who’s smiling widely at Gilbert. “You both disgust me. Get me outta here!”

Anne laughingly hugs her instead of letting go, and Gilbert wraps them both in his arms as Diana screams and laughs in protest. 

“Get away from me, you sickening lovebirds!” Diana screeches, still laughing. “No way! I refuse to enjoy your company if you’re going to be mooning over each other all the time!”

Anne only holds on to her tighter, and Gilbert lifts them both off their feet for a second, enjoying their delighted laughter. 

“Too bad, Di,” Gilbert says, putting them back down. “You’re about 8 years too late, and you’re fully stuck with us now.”

“I was thirteen eight years ago,” Diana protests. “I didn’t know anything back then!”

Gilbert laughs. “That’s when you got stuck with us _both_. You got stuck with _me_ long before that. We were what, four, when you offered me your strawberry tart in kindergarten?”

“This is so unfair. I was too young to sign binding contracts at four, I take it back!”

“Almost twenty years too late on that one, Di,” Anne says, kissing her on the cheek before wriggling out of Gilbert’s arms. “Now as much as I love you both, I promised Jane I’d go listen to her complain about how unnecessarily difficult it is to divorce a sibling.”

“Want me to come with?” Diana asks.

“No, no,” Anne says, waving her off. “You guys have fun. We don’t _all_ have to suffer on a Friday night hearing stories about Billy Andrews.”

“Come on, Blythe,” Diana says, pulling on his arm, her cocktail already half gone. “If you can’t hide from the party with Anne you might as well join the fun.”

“I didn’t know your idea of fun includes Roy and Charlie’s singing now,” Gilbert says, following her out of the kitchen.

“I’m hoping one of them has lost their voice by now,” Diana says, smiling widely. “So, you and Anne, huh? Despite my need to bleach some memories from my brain, I gotta say; finally.”

“Let’s go back to talking about Roy and Charlie.”

Diana laughs. “Let’s please not. All my sneaky wingmanning on your behalf has finally paid off when I thought it might have all been in vain, and I’m very happy about it.”

Gilbert laughs with her, saying, “I wouldn’t dare let your hard work go to waste, Di.”

“Yeah, you better not, Blythe. I know how you…well we _all_ know how you feel about her. But don’t mess it up, okay? And don’t let her mess it up either.”

Gilbert sobers immediately, stopping to lean against the hallway wall. “I only want her to be happy, Di. That’s all.”

Diana nods contemplatively as she turns to face him. “I get that. It’s just…I know she wants to be happy with _you_. I don’t want you to think that isn’t true when she says something or does something a little…Anne.”

Gilbert smiles. “You mean when she gets mad and some insult bursts out of her that she immediately regrets?”

Diana laughs. “I don’t know why it’s so bad with you! She’s not like that with anyone else!”

“Don’t I know it,” Gilbert says, chuckling wryly. “Before I knew Cole was gay I used to be so jealous of how easy their friendship looked compared to mine and Anne’s. She was always with him after we had a fight too. I used to wonder how much he must hate me after all the things he heard about me from her.”

“Poor Cole,” Diana says, smiling. “Always having to deal with the fallout of your, often one-sided, arguments. His advice was always the same though. ‘Just bang him and you’ll feel a lot better, Anne. It’s all this unresolved sexual tension that’s the problem.’ Every single time. And then Anne would laugh and say he was crazy and this wasn’t one of those ‘enemies to lovers’ fanfics that he likes so much.”

“Well we were never really enemies, though. Not on my part anyway.”

“And thank goodness for that! Even Cole with his _unending_ patience with Anne was starting to fray at the edges the longer you guys took to finally be together. You can imagine the state of him if you guys had actually been enemies rather than not-so-secretly pining idiots.”

“I feel like I should thank him, but he might ask me to take my shirt off to properly show my appreciation.”

Diana’s laugh is wild as she walks to the living room. “That sounds like Cole. Are you worried you’ll enjoy it?”

“Oh I _know_ I will,” Gilbert says, laughing. “If anyone could drag me kicking and screaming away from Anne, it would be Cole. And he knows it too.”

“He would be so happy to hear that. The things he’s been saying about your back muscles…well. They shouldn’t be repeated in polite company.”

Gilbert’s guffaw goes unnoticed in the screeching laughter of the living room, where Roy and Charlie are now belting their version of ‘We are the champions’. Roy seems to have some idea of the key and the tempo, but he keeps laughing at Charlie, who’s singing with the same tone and enthusiasm that he used to read poetry with. 

Charlie used to infuriate Anne with how he could make even _Shakespeare_ sound dull.

“Oh god,” Tillie says, appearing at Diana’s side with her phone up, recording Roy and Charlie. “This is the best. I’m gonna win an award or something for best Snap of all time.”

“Or worst Snap of all time that people for some reason can’t stop watching,” Diana says, her eye twitching as Charlie goes off-key on a high note. “I hope you guys understand how painful this is to watch for a music major.”

“Or for someone in pre-med,” Gilbert chimes in. “Imagine the damage to everyone’s eardrums. I care a little less for Roy and Charlie’s vocal chords. It would probably be best if their vocal chords had some damage done to them. You know, for the greater good.”

“As you can see, us business majors are just trying to turn this into a business opportunity,” Josie says from Tillie’s other side, also recording on her phone. “And Miss Stacy keeps interrupting in The Closet’s group chat, saying that today’s issue of the Gazette was one of our best.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Josie continues. “It’s good news, I just _don’t want to be interrupted right now_.”

Gilbert checks his own phone, seeing the texts from Miss Stacy. He also has a string of emojis from Roy that he ignores, and a text from Anne that he opens immediately.

_I’m in Moody’s room talking to Jane. I’m trying to stay focused on her but I can see your overnight bag from here, and it’s making me horribly distracted._

**_Is that right? What are you thinking about that’s distracting you so much, Anne-girl?_** 😉

_Your mouth, mostly._

“Fuck,” Gilbert mutters to himself. 

_But Jane is really mad about what Billy did and I need to pay attention so DO NOT REPLY TO THIS or I will drag you in here to make out. I don’t think poor Jane wants to see that._

Gilbert flushes as he laughs and puts his phone away, resisting with great difficulty the temptation to reply to her text. 

“Even your ‘texting Anne’ face is disgustingly moony,” Diana says, shaking her head. 

“Ouch,” he says, clutching at his chest. “Those cocktails have made you _vicious_. Go easy on me, Di. I’m finally with Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. Let the thirteen year old Gilbert in my head have this.”

She laughs, but sobers quickly saying, “Hey Gil? In all seriousness, she’s my best friend. So you can trust me when I say that she’s crazy about you. She hasn’t been as obvious as you about it, no doubt, but it’s still true. Don’t forget that, okay? Whatever you feel for her, she feels for you too.”

Gilbert swallows, his heart in his throat as he says, “I do know that. I might forget it for a second when we argue, but…I do _know_.”

Diana smiles knowingly. “Well, you can come to me whenever you need reminding, okay?”

Gilbert smiles back, putting his arm around her and hugging her to his side. “Thanks, Di. You’re a really good friend, and I’m glad that Anne has you. That _I_ have you.”

Diana squeezes him affectionately, saying, “And don’t you forget it! I’m glad she has you too, Gil.”

Gilbert is suddenly buffeted into the wall behind him, Diana still pressed to his side as a gangly mass hugs them both fiercely.

“You’re supposed to include me in _any and all cuddles_ involving Gilly boy, you _know_ this Di!”

“Hello to you too, Cole,” Gilbert says into Cole’s shoulder, laughing as he pats him on the back. “I see we’re bringing back the accursed nickname tonight.”

Cole pats him on the head, saying, “You’ll always be Gilly boy to me, Gilby Goo.”

Gilbert chuckles. “I’d ask how you know what Bash used to call me in front of Dellie, but I just accept that you know everything, all the time.”

“That’s me,” Cole agrees, grinning as he releases Gilbert. “All seeing, all knowing and all too much.”

“ _You_ , Cole? Too much?” Diana asks, grinning. 

“I know, I know,” Cole says, putting his arms around Diana and Gilbert’s shoulders. “I need to be too much because people just can’t get enough of me. You truly understand me, Diana Barry.”

Diana and Gilbert laugh as Cole presses a loud, exaggerated kiss to the top of both their heads. 

“Dare I ask how many cocktails you’ve had?” Gilbert asks, grimacing as Roy hits a high note that only dogs can hear.

“You most certainly do _not_ dare, because I’d rather hear what we’re talking about that brought on cuddles,” Cole says.

“Mostly we’re talking about how much we love Anne,” Diana replies, grinning at Gilbert mischievously before she drains her glass in one giant gulp. “Gil’s particularly enjoying the conversation.”

“Ah, the Anne effect,” Cole says on a sigh. “So Gilly boy, according to Anne this has only been happening for _a day_. What in all hell did you say to her that made you guys jump ahead to making out topless? I could use some tips because it must have been _effective_.”

Gilbert’s ears burn as he feels himself flush violently. Before he can respond, Cole says, “Aaaawwwww look at you all embarrassed. Was it that good?”

“You know,” Diana interrupts, almost as red as Gilbert. “I’m not sure I want to know any more details about what got them to jump into bed together…”

“God, don’t say it like that!” Gilbert protests, reddening even more. “We didn’t _jump into bed_ together; it was… It’s _Anne._ It was more than that.”

Diana and Cole exchange tipsy, bitten-back smiles that make Gilbert a little anxious, wondering what they’re going to ask or tell him next. To his surprise, they sandwich him between them and start to squeeze the life out of him. 

“You are so adorable, Gilbert Blythe, I could just eat you,” Cole says, ruffling his hair. 

“Seconded,” Diana says, her arms still squeezing his torso with all her might. “I’m so glad you and Anne finally figured your shit out.”

“What am I looking at right now?” an amused voice chimes in.

All three of them look up to see Anne trying not to laugh, a snorting Jane squeezing her arm before making a beeline for Josie and Tillie. 

“We think we like your boyfriend more than you do,” Diana explains, tucking her head into Gilbert’s chest. “He’s very nice and kinda adorable.”

“Well, _I_ think so,” Anne says, still trying not to laugh as Gilbert pats Diana’s head gently, if not a little awkwardly.

“We think we might trust him with you,” Cole adds, resting his cheek on Gilbert’s head as Gilbert pats him on the back. “He really is so cute though; we don’t wanna let go of him now.”

Gilbert’s pretty sure Anne is laughing because his eyebrows are going crazy as her best friends in the world cuddle him between them. But her eyes are so soft with fondness and alight with joy that he can’t help but stare at her. 

“Hi,” he says, eyes wide and heart pounding.

“Hi,” she replies, her blue-grey eyes twinkling and her hair loose in waves down her shoulders. Even after spending half an hour listening to Jane talk about her worse than garbage brother, she’s absolutely stunning. “You doing okay?”

“I uh…” He looks down at Diana and up at Cole, continuing, “I’m very warm?”

“I bet,” Anne says, her grin wide. “I see you’ve stolen my most kindred spirits.”

“Not that I know what I did to make that happen, unless it was just me standing here that did it for them,” Gilbert says, grinning. “But yeah, I think I have.”

Anne shakes her head, mouth pursed shut against her laugh as Diana and Cole snuggle contentedly into his chest and side. As he squeezes their shoulders, Gilbert feels his heart skip a beat at her mouthed ‘I love you’. 

“I love _you_ ,” he replies softly, and watches her dimples deepen as she smiles. 

“I know, sweetie,” Cole replies into his head. “There are consequences to getting too close to me.”

Anne and Gilbert laugh, and Diana grumbles at the noise, looking like she’s almost asleep at Gilbert’s side. 

“Shall we get you home, Di?” Anne asks, gently pulling her bosom friend away. 

Diana happily moves into Anne’s arms, saying, “I am kinda tired. I think it’s time to ask Ruby what was in those cocktails and start calling it ‘the sleeping potion’.”

“How about I get you home instead, Di?” Cole says, squeezing Gilbert before letting him go. “And Anne and Gilly boy can pretend they’re helping me when really they’re dying to head home to do more than jump into bed.”

Anne’s very visible flush is telling, and her agitated whisper of “Seriously, Cole?” even more so.

Gilbert smiles and says, “I know you didn’t drive, Cole. How about Anne and I get you both home?”

Cole looks at Anne almost accusingly. “See! Do you see how _adorable_ he is??”

Anne laughs, pulling Diana to Moody’s room where they all left their coats and bags. “Yes, Cole. I see how adorable he is, I promise.”

They all grab their things, and Cole sniggers to himself when he sees Gilbert pick up his overnight bag. 

Gilbert looks at Anne’s pursed lips and explains, “I would have left it in the car but my laptop’s in there, just in case I - _we_ wanted to get any work done.”

Anne’s grin is wide as she fishes her hair out from the collar of her blue coat. “Don’t worry, I know you’re not making an announcement with it or anything. If anything, I’m the one who started all of this by kissing you in the kitchen.”

“Not that I’m complaining,” Gilbert whispers before kissing her cheek. 

Looking around to make sure Cole and Diana are occupied, Anne whispers back, “If we were alone right now, I would tackle-kiss you against that wall.”

“And I’d happily let you,” Gilbert says, pulling on his jacket. “As soon as we walk through your door I…”

“Yeah,” she says, soft and eager. “Nothing to stop us there.”

“So uh,” Cole says, Diana hitting his arm repeatedly. “How long do you guys want us to pretend we can’t hear you?”

“Cole!” Diana says. “Sorry, you guys know he has no filter. Please, go ahead with your lovebird-speak while we run away and meet you outside.”

Anne and Gilbert laugh as they scurry outside. They hear Cole start his goodbyes with an exuberant, “Okay people, the life of the party is leaving! Oh, and Diana too, I guess.”

“Come on,” Anne says, taking his hand and tugging him outside. “The sooner we get my drunk friends home, the sooner I can lock and bolt my front door behind us.”

“But first.” Gilbert tugs her to him and kisses her. What was intended to be a quick peck sends a lightning bolt through his body that seemingly comes straight from her lips. So he lingers, slipping his tongue into the wet heat of her mouth as she moans softly, threading her fingers through his hair. 

He forces himself to pull away, kissing her nose gently. She scrunches her nose adorably, making him smile as he pulls her out of the room with him.

He’s slammed into the front door as soon as Anne, as promised, locks and bolts it behind them. Her lips are hungry against his, her hands on his face and in his hair. He pulls her closer as they kiss, his arms around her waist and back, burying his hand in her hair. She pulls in a sharp breath as his hand grazes the curve of her ass, and places his hand firmly on her ass herself. She presses into his knuckles until he cups her ass firmly, pulling her hips into his. At her moan, he presses his mouth to her jaw and down her neck. She tilts her head back, her arms around his shoulders for support and her hips tight against his.

Gilbert feels like he’s in heaven.

Somewhere in his mind he processes that she smells amazing as he kisses her neck. Somewhere he registers that her ass is toned and firm as he slides both his hands down her back slowly to squeeze it. Somewhere he notes that Anne likes his hands on the bare skin of her back, if the way she gasps out his name is anything to go by. 

But the thought that rises above all others is simple. 

_Anne_ is there, in his arms. She _wants_ to be there. She, somehow, loves _him_. 

The thought would bring him to his knees if he let it. 

Anne seemingly senses the direction his thoughts have taken, as she so often does. She cups his cheek as she brings his face up to hers for a soft, gentle kiss; so at odds with the heat and passion of the moments before, yet somehow also part of it. As he sighs into her kiss and wraps her in his arms, gentling their frantic embrace, he feels awash with the kind of tranquility only Anne can bring. Somehow, in the soft brushes of her fingers against his neck, in the deliberate tangling of them in his hair, in the sheer tenderness that emanates from the gentleness of her lips on his, he understands. There, the object of her unbearably loving attention, he hears her voice in his head saying, ‘ _Yes. Yes Gil, I do love you. Yes, this is where I want to be. Yes, yes, yes._ ’

For two people who talk as much as they do, it still amazes him how they sometimes understand each other best when no words have been spoken at all. 

They’re both smiling as their lips part, even as they linger, breathing each other’s air. Anne moves even closer, pressing his back firmly into the door as she kisses his jaw, then his cheek.

Gilbert sighs as he tilts his head back, letting it thump against the door behind him. Anne starts to kiss and nip at his neck, her hands wandering down his shoulders and chest. 

“Anne,” he breathes shakily as slips her hands into his jacket, rubbing his nipple through his shirt. 

“Mmm?” she hums, letting her teeth graze just under his jaw, making him groan.

His fingers dig into her hips and he swallows breathlessly as she sucks and licks her way down to his Adam’s apple, saying, “This is… Anne-girl can we…slow down for a minute?”

Anne smiles, leaving one last, lingering kiss in the hollow of his throat. He groans as she runs her nails gently over his nipples, a bolt of heat coursing through his body.

“Sorry,” she says, the remorse clear in her voice even as she grins. “I’ll behave; you’re just so…scrumptious.”

He lets out an incredulous laugh, his eyes on the ceiling as he softens his touch on her hips, once again wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. She nuzzles into his neck, tightening her arms around his back when he kisses the top of her head fiercely.

“Have I told you how nice you look tonight?” he asks, running his fingers through her hair slowly.

“You have, but I don’t mind hearing it again, if you’re so inclined,” she quips, pulling back to look up at him, her chin on his chest.

He chuckles. “You look beautiful, Anne-girl. You always do.”

She smiles, full of fondness, her fingers trailing down his cheek as her own turn rosy. “You’re always so sweet.”

He kisses her forehead and her eyes slowly fall shut. “I love you,” he murmurs against her temple.

Her eyes shine as she looks at him. “I love you too.”

He rocks them back and forth as he holds her, and she giggles as she says, “You know, if anyone told me before that Gilbert Blythe was so great at cuddling, I don’t know if I would have believed them. But now it seems so obvious. Of course you’d love a good cuddle, it fits right in with everything else I know about you.”

Gilbert laughs. “Sure, that’s me; Gilbert Blythe, knows a lot about apple farms, co-valedictorian of Avonlea High, best uncle ever but only according to Dellie, madly and hopelessly in love with Anne Shirley-Cuthbert…also avid cuddler.”

“I think you’re the best uncle ever too,” Anne says fondly, kissing him on the cheek. “Now come on, I was promised we’d stay in bed all weekend, and Saturday was underway…” She picks up his wrist and checks his watch, saying, “Forty seven minutes ago.”

Gilbert picks up his bag from where he had dropped it when Anne had tackled him into the door, and lets her drag him into her room. 

“Do you want something to eat? Or drink?” she asks as she tosses her jacket onto the bed. “Do you wanna use the bathroom first? Any urgent pre-med-related things that need to be done before we go to bed?”

He ignores the shiver of delight that trickles down his spine at the domesticity of it all, at the casual way she says ‘we’. He puts his bag down again and pulls her into him, her back pressed to his chest, and kisses her neck, then her shoulder. 

“If you keep that up,” she says breathily, her head dropping back to his shoulder as he trails his mouth from her shoulder back to her neck. “I’m going to push you into that bed and take your shirt off and put my mouth all over you.”

He freezes, his mouth at the nape of her neck. He tucks his nose into her hair, saying, “I have no complaints whatsoever, Anne-girl.”

“Don’t think I won’t…do it,” she warns even as her breath hitches at the kiss he presses behind her ear. “You’ve been so lovely all night I’ve had to stop myself from jumping you and/or bursting into tears at the sight of you for the past, oh…couple hours. It’s been utter torment.”

One of his hands squeezes her thigh gently while the other wanders up and down her side. “Well,” he murmurs into her hair. “I do apologise for bringing you utter torment. I assure you…” He kisses her shoulder, his eyes flickering down to the teasing amount of cleavage bared by her top. “Seeing you in this brought me plenty of pain too. The best kind of pain.”

He tugs at the zipper at her side teasingly, and as he goes back to peppering slow kisses to her shoulder, Anne says, “I bet seeing me out of it might take some of that pain away.”

She brings his hand back to the zipper of her top, her hand on his as he slowly tugs the zipper down. Slowly, the band of her dark green strapless bra is revealed, then the creamy, freckled skin of her side and stomach. She gasps as he slips his hand into the loosened top, brushing the tips of his fingers across her stomach teasingly. 

“Are you okay with this?” he asks, kissing her ear. 

“Yes,” she breathes, burying her hand in his hair.

Anne leans into him completely as his hand explores the soft skin of her stomach. She shivers when his index finger circles her navel, and buries her soft gasp into his neck as he traces the lacy edges at the bottom of her bra.

He feels himself harden as he touches her to the symphony of her muffled gasps into his neck. The curve of her ass is nestled into his crotch, and the way she moves against him is tantalising even in its carelessness. 

He spins her around and kisses her thoroughly. Her arm snakes around his neck as his travel down to her thighs so he can lift her easily into his arms. She moans into his mouth as she wraps her legs around him, and he walks them to the bed, lowering them both into it gently. Anne hums as he settles on top of her, tightening her legs around him. 

“I like us like this,” Anne whispers against his lips. 

He smiles and kisses her, saying, “Like what?”

“At home.” She kisses his cheek. “In my bed” His jaw. “Just…together.”

“Well I kinda like us like this too, Anne-girl,” he says, kissing her again. “I really.” Another kiss. “Really.” Kiss. “Like us like this.”

Anne’s giggle turns into a moan as he nibbles at her neck. “Fuck,” she sighs as he lingers at her pulse point, curling her fingers into his shoulders. “Gil…”

She slips his jacket off his shoulders, making a noise of complaint in her throat when it gets stuck at his elbows because he won’t stop touching her. Chuckling, he lets her take it off, and she immediately starts working on the buttons of his shirt. Impatience taking over after she has three buttons undone; she starts tugging at the hem, and Gilbert pulls back to slip the shirt over his head. 

Her eyes trail over his torso appreciatively as he leans over her, her hands taking a slow path from his shoulders down to his chest and stomach. His skin burns at her touch, his stomach contracting as her fingers trace the line of hair leading down to his pants. 

Just as he’s about to sigh her name, her hands suddenly dart to his sides, tickling him. He falls on top of her in his surprise, laughing as he wrestles her hands away playfully. She still gets in a good tickle or two, giggling and looking very proud of herself.

“I told you. You trusted me with dangerous information,” Anne says, grinning widely. She looks so happy and so beautiful and utterly perfect.

“I like you like this,” he says, bringing both her hands up to rest above her head.

“Smug and victorious?” she asks, linking their fingers together instead of fighting his hold.

“Laughing,” he replies, smiling. “And kissing me.”

“Well then,” she says, smiling and tilting her chin up for a kiss. “Come here.”

He groans into their kiss, feeling her legs tighten around his waist at the sound, grinding firmly into her core. She arches her back, her fingers tightening in his, her breasts brushing against his chest lightly. 

He feels a flash of her bare skin against his as her loosened top moves to reveal her stomach. He lets go of her hands to feel her soft skin there, tracing her side with his thumb. 

When the fabric keeps getting in his way, he tugs at the hem and asks, “Can I just…”

“Yes,” she interrupts, her breathing heavy. “Please.”

Gilbert sits them both up in a flash, making her laugh as he straddles her thighs. She lets him take her top off, leaving her in a dark green lacy bra. She falls back into bed, her arms thrown over her head and her hair mussed.

Her arms reach for him as she says, “Come back here.”

He takes her hand and kisses her palm. “Just…let me look at you for a second.”

The thoughts racing through his head fight for dominance as he watches her lay back with a smile; that she’s beautiful, that her hair looks like a halo of fire spreading across the sheets, that her freckles that he loves so much get lighter as they travel down her torso, that he’ll probably never get tired of just _looking_ at her. 

But the foremost thought in his mind, is that he really wants to pull her bra off with his teeth.

She appears to have been eyeing him as he studied her, and as he moves to cover her body with his, her eyes flicker up from the bulge in his pants to his mouth, and then his eyes. Then they’re finally skin on skin, his body singing at the contact as he starts tracing the freckles on her shoulder with his mouth. 

He feels Anne’s breath quicken as he kisses the dip above her collarbone, as his kisses trail down her chest to her bra. He lets his mouth brush the lacy edge, his hand wandering over her stomach, her hips. He feels her hands touching him everywhere; his hair, his neck, his back. Her nails dig into his skin when he nuzzles her breast gently, kissing the soft skin there. Anne’s breath hitches when he catches the fabric covering her breast with his teeth and drags it down so her breast is exposed. He does the same to her other breast, catching her eye and watching her gasp as her breasts are bared. 

He kisses her nipple before sucking it into his mouth, making her keen. He tweaks her neglected nipple with his thumb, feeling it harden in to a tight peak. He blows on her nipple gently, watching goosebumps rise as Anne arches her back, one arm over her head clutching at her headboard. 

He brushes his mouth over her other breast, taking his time exploring the sensitive undersides. Anne seems particularly sensitive there, her gasping interspersed with whimpers of “Fuck” and “Gil” and “Oh”. He licks at her nipple, watching her reactions as she writhes under him. 

“Does it feel good, Anne-girl?” he asks, his voice rough with desire as he presses his hips into hers firmly, desperate for friction against his cock. “Do you like it when I have my mouth on you?”

“Gil,” she breathes as he nuzzles into her nipple. “Gil, you have no idea. You have no idea how good this feels.” 

He grins against her breast, saying, “Tell me. Use at least two big words.”

She lets out a desperate moan as he sucks her nipple into his mouth, his hand trailing down her arm that’s still clutching white knuckled at her headboard. “It feels like…you’re illuminating every nerve…in my body. My whole body feels so…tight with anticipation but somehow also loose like I’m about to melt into the mattress but also like I’m about to fulminate into a thousand particles, floating around this room.”

Gilbert is smiling as he releases her nipple, watching her flush travel down her chest. Her nipples are a dark pink, the same colour of the abused lower lip that Anne has trapped in her teeth. She looks so beautiful, so lovely, so insanely, heart-stoppingly sexy. 

“Only you, Anne,” he says, dropping kisses between her breasts and down to her stomach. “Only you can look like a fucking goddess but also be so smart. And can use not two but three big words while you’re gasping and breathless.”

Anne laughs, and he feels the force of it against his forehead that he’s pressed into her sternum. She wraps her arms around his head, hugging him to her. She runs her fingers through his now-sweaty curls, letting them drift down his neck and to his shoulders. The tantalising touch makes him shift his hips, grinding into the mattress as she tickles down his spine lightly. 

“Move,” she says suddenly, pushing at his shoulders. “Gil please, move.”

Startled, he immediately rolls off her, landing on his back in the middle of the bed. Before he can open his mouth to ask her what’s wrong, to ask if he did something wrong, she’s getting on top of him, her mouth trailing down his neck to his chest. 

His groan rumbles through his chest at the feel of her, and he watches as she reaches back to unclip her bra, throwing it aside as she mouths at his nipple. He smoothes his hand down her spine, feeling her shiver at his touch. 

“Can you still spell?” she asks, scratching her nails down his stomach, making it ripple at his sharp inhale. “Fulminate.”

Gilbert huffs out a desperate laugh. “I bet you love those first two letters.”

She giggles against his ribs, her mouth still trailing down the lines of his stomach. “Well?” she asks, biting at his skin, sending ripples of pleasure down his body. 

“F…U-L-M…fuck. Anne-girl.” 

She reaches up to kiss him, quick at first, and then turning deep, almost filthy. “Keep going,” she whispers against his lips, her palm flat against his belt buckle. 

“I…” He gasps, her hand so close to where he wants it, toying with the zipper on his pants. “N-A…T-E. Anne…”

“So clever,” she says, grinning. “Pretty, too.”

He laughs, but then he feels her small hand palming the bulge in his pants and groans, panting against her cheek as she touches him. He can barely process anything other than her hand stroking him, but eventually realises that he has one hand on the back of her neck, the other cupping her breast firmly with his thumb rubbing over her nipple. 

He kisses her then, slipping his tongue into her mouth. Her moan reverberates against his chest when he presses her to him, and her hands, blessedly, cannot reach where he’s hardest anymore. 

She moans her protest against his lips, and he smiles, saying, “You don’t have to.”

“Oh really? It never even _occurred_ to me that I didn’t have to do anything I don’t want to do to you, Gilbert Blythe, why didn’t I think of _that_?”

He laughs at her adorable, grumpy face, and kisses her cheek adoringly. “Don’t be mean. I love you.”

“Hmph.” 

“ _Anne-girl_ ,” he complains, kissing her again. His hand finds her ass and squeezes it and she lets out a tiny whimper that makes him want to _ravage_ her. 

“You are so fucking irresistible to me, Anne-girl. So fucking beautiful.”

Her smile is small but her kiss is fierce. “I love you, Gil. So very much.”

Gilbert smiles up at her, and she lays her head on his chest shyly, nuzzling into him. 

He slips his arms around her waist as she makes herself comfortable lying on top of him, and he sighs when she kisses his chest. 

“I want to take you out to dinner before you have your hands on me like that,” he whispers into her hair. “I want to take you to dinner _a few times_ …before you have your hands on me like that. I want to take it just…just _a little bit_ slow.”

She stays where she is, stroking his chest with her fingers as he wills his erection down. It’s almost impossible to think of unpleasant things, considering she’s still on top of him, half naked, with her breasts pressed into his chest, but he somehow manages. 

Anne eventually brings her head up, leaning her chin on his chest and looking at him, smiling sweetly. 

“Like I said,” she murmurs, kissing him lightly. “You’re always so sweet. I would be very happy to go dutch on those dinners before I get my hands on you.”

He quickly flips them so she’s on her back again, immediately getting his mouth on her nipples. She gasps out his name and clutches at his back, sounding so wrecked that it destroys him.

“Sorry,” he says softly. “Just wanted one last taste.”

“You know, growing up everyone kept telling me how dreamy Gilbert Blythe was. Who knew they should have also been talking about how panty-droppingly sexy he can be?” Anne says, her grin wide and mischievous. 

Gilbert flushes violently. “Shut up,” he mumbles into her neck. 

“Seriously,” she says, kissing the crown of his head softly. “That was very hot.”

His laugh is muffled into her skin. “You were very hot too. I’m still extremely distracted by your half-nakedness.”

“That makes two of us.”

They both laugh, and when Anne looks at him, her face so full of love, the last thing he expects her to say is, “I need to go brush my teeth.”

He bites back his laugh, instead saying, “Me too.”

“Well, come on then, Mr. Blythe. I happen to have a sink that might be big enough for us to use at the same time.”

She drags him out of bed, and his eyes flick down to her breasts before she pulls a giant t-shirt out of her dresser and puts it on. 

“I usually sleep without a shirt on,” he offers, as he grabs his things from his bag. “Is that okay? I brought a t-shirt if you don’t feel…”

“Of course it’s okay,” she interrupts, popping her head out of the bathroom. He wills himself not to look down at her pants, unbuttoned and unzipped but still on. “I want you to be comfortable, Gil. Also, I don’t usually sleep with no pants on, but I kinda feel like it today. If that’s okay with you?”

He kisses her head as he pushes her into the bathroom with him. “Of course that’s okay with me.”

Then she’s wriggling her pants off, while he drops his, and when they both reach for their toothbrushes it hits Gilbert all at once how domestic they’re being, and how natural and perfect it feels to be there with her. She has toothpaste dribbling out of the corner of her mouth as she brushes, her t-shirt affording him generous glimpses of her ass as she moves, her thighs so mouthwateringly bare to his gaze, and she’s pulled her hair back into a messy bun, and she’s adorable and the love of his life. 

He sees her sneak peeks at him as he hangs up his dark jeans on a hook behind the door, sees her smile around her toothbrush as she checks out his ass in the mirror. He smirks at her as he picks up his toothbrush, just watching her eye him as he stands there in nothing but his boxers. She washes the toothpaste out of her mouth, and sneakily drags a knuckle from his belly button down to the edge of his boxers. 

He laughs with his toothbrush in his mouth, slapping her wandering hands away. She grins widely at him with her foaming face wash on, and sticks out her tongue before she rubs the face wash into her skin gently.

He’s done with his nighttime routine before her, and she slaps his ass cheekily as he leaves the bathroom. He’s already pulled on his pyjama pants and gotten into bed when she launches herself into bed next to him, tucking herself under the covers and into his side happily, her pillow going unused in favour of his chest.

“Can I just ask a quick question about boundaries?” she asks, her voice getting a little slower with sleep. “Because I don’t know exactly what it is you don’t…rather…what’s the line you don’t want us to cross while we go on these dates, Gil?”

He pulls her closer, saying, “Would it be okay if we just stayed…above the waist for now? I mean I know there’s already been the grinding and the ass grabbing but…that stuff does tend to kinda just _happen_ and I don’t know if I want to put a hard stop to that or anything. What do you think?”

She looks at him thoughtfully, her brow furrowed. “I feel like all the touching and grabbing is such a slippery slope in the heat of the moment, though. And none of those things, you know, the grinding and ass grabbing, are really a hard no for me either.”

Gilbert smiles. “Well, for now let’s just try and keep things above the waist and keep our pants on. And we’ll just keep checking in to make sure we’re both okay with what’s happening. Even if it’s not the _sexiest_ thing to keep doing in the heat of the moment…”

“What?” Anne says, her head coming off his chest so she can look him in the eye. “I wouldn’t say that at all, Gil. _Trust me_ , you being concerned about me feeling safe and comfortable is _plenty_ sexy.”

“Oh yeah?”

She smiles at him, content and sleepy. “Definitely, yeah. I mean, I always feel safe with you, Gil. And when you check to make sure I’m okay, it makes me feel so safe knowing that you’ll stop if I say stop, and that you wouldn’t ever guilt me into doing anything I’m not comfortable with.”

He kisses her forehead gently. “I’m so glad. I always want you to feel safe with me.”

She leans into his touch, her eyes closed. “I’m glad too. I’m so glad that you’re you.”

“I love you.”

She smiles and kisses his chest again. “I love you too. Good night, Gil.”

“Good night, Anne."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo......
> 
> Yes I do realise it's been more than a month since my last update. But haven't things gone absolutely crazy since then? Good Lord!
> 
> I hope you guys will accept this way longer than usual chapter as a token of my appreciation for not giving up on me 🥰
> 
> Anyway I've been stuck at home with a Movement Control Order in effect where I am. I was ecstatic, thinking I'd have more time to write, but work has been crazy with everyone wondering what to do about COVID. Fingers crossed things slow down a little in the three weeks I'll still have to spend at home. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!! I'm gonna head back to the last chapter and respond to those comments I was too embarrassed to reply to because I hadn't updated yet 😇😇
> 
> Stay safe, wherever you guys are! ❤️


	7. A perfect new beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A compliment battle commences, guardians are FaceTimed, and a first date is had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The government just announced an extension to the Movement Control Order we have here, so I'm still going to be stuck at home until the end of April. Can you guys tell that I dealt with that by writing this humdinger of a chapter? 
> 
> I'm not even gonna lie, this chapter is fluffy af and is going to ROT YOUR TEETH, and I apologise in advance if anyone feels the need to throw up ✌🏾

Gilbert wakes up splayed half on top of Anne, her squirming body trying to wriggle out from under his dead weight. 

“Can’t….move….” Anne pants into his hair, her hand that’s not trapped under him pushing at his shoulder. 

He blinks the sleep out of his eyes, allowing himself to be pushed off her and falling onto his back on his side of the bed. He lasts about fifteen seconds before turning to cuddle into her and Anne laughs, pushing his face away.

“No, Gil, love, please, you’re like a furnace,” she says, laughing as she edges away. 

Gilbert huffs and contents himself with taking her hand and hugging her forearm to his chest, closing his eyes again.

She giggles softly, pushing his hair off his forehead. “You’re adorable.”

He smiles, eyes still closed, and kisses her knuckles gently. She brushes her thumb against his temple and ear in a soothing, repetitive motion that lulls him half asleep. He’s content to lie there holding her hand, but he feels her gaze on him prickling at his skin, making his smile widen.

“Are you watching me sleep?” he asks, his voice low and rumbling with disuse. 

“I am lovingly gazing at you while you _pretend_ to sleep,” she corrects, and he can hear the smile in her voice.

He opens his eyes, and she’s already looking at him, her eyes roving his face tenderly. His smile is absolutely stupid as she catches his eye, and his heart thumps unevenly in his chest as she leans in for a quick kiss.

“Hi,” he whispers, nuzzling her nose with his.

“Morning,” she replies, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Have I mentioned how cute you are when you’ve just woken up?”

He sighs happily. “Have I mentioned how difficult it is to process that I’ve just woken up with you for the second time in two days and how thrilled I am about it?”

Her smile is brighter than sunshine when she says, “I’m kinda thrilled about the very same thing, Gilbert Blythe.”

She clambers on top of him and lays her head on his chest, prompting his faux protest of, “I thought I was like a furnace!”

“Is that a complaint I hear?” she asks, mischief written all over her face as she pretends to back away. 

Gilbert’s arms immediately latch around her waist, holding her to him. “ _Noooo_ stay here.”

Anne laughs and throws the covers off both of them before cuddling into his chest. “There. Furnace problem solved.”

Gilbert presses a hard kiss to her head, squeezing her around the waist. They lie there quietly, Gilbert tracing circles into the small of Anne’s back while she scratches her nails gently over the part of his collarbone and chest that she’s not lying on. He jerks a little when her nails catch his nipple, and grabs a handful of her oversized shirt, making it rise to reveal the soft, freckled skin of her bare thighs. 

He lays very, very still as Anne props herself up on her her hands, looking down at him with her fathomless blue-grey eyes. She tilts her head, considering him slowly. 

“You know, I always hear people talk about what a great jawline you have,” she murmurs, tracing it with her fingers. “And you _do_. But why don’t people ever talk about this splendid chin, I wonder.”

Gilbert blinks. “You like my chin?”

She grins, kissing his chin and biting at it a little. “Yes, I do.”

He pulls her up a little to kiss her. “Don’t go starting a battle of compliments, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert. You’ll lose.”

He slips his tongue into her mouth to halt her protest and she moans, the noise shooting a bolt of lust down his spine as she moves on top of him.

He groans as she pulls her lips away, trying to pull her close, but she stops him with a hand on his chest. “No no no no no. You can’t just say I’ll lose at a battle of compliments and then think I’ll forget about it if we make out. Get to it, Mr. Blythe.”

Gilbert grins, saying, “Are you ordering me to compliment you?”

“That is _not_ …okay yeah, that is pretty much what I’m doing. But you know I take any and all competitions with you very seriously. I was just trying to tell you I like your chin and instead of saying thank you like a good boyfriend you made me get all competitive and…and what I’m trying to say is _you started it, Gilbert Blythe_.”

Gilbert, his grin stretched to his ears at the word ‘boyfriend’, immediately kisses her when she’s done with her little rant. “Sorry,” he breathes. “You said boyfriend and I couldn’t help it, but yeah, I absolutely started it.” 

Anne laughs. “You are such a dork. But a really cute one. And that’s two compliments to your zero so I’m winning already, Blythe.”

“Nope, no way. I have way more than _zero_. I could talk all day about all the things I love about you I mean…where do I even _start_? Your hair, maybe? When the sun hits it just right, it makes you look like a fiery goddess; Athena maybe.” Her entire face flushes. Encouraged, he smiles as he continues, “The night we graduated high school and we all went to the beach, you were doing your pirate jokes standing on that overturned boat in front of the bonfire. Then you started to dance, laughing, and the wind picked up and your hair was flying everywhere, the firelight turning it into… You really were a fire-haired dreamer that night. It took my breath away; so much so that I thought…this is how I go, and I don’t mind it at all if this is the last thing I see.”

She bites her lip, and her voice is soft when she says, “Graduation night? That’s where you came up with fire-haired dreamer?”

He strokes her cheek, saying, “Yeah, why?”

Her smile is watery but beautiful. “I threw up on your shoes that night, and me supposedly looking like Athena is what you remember?”

“Oh no, I definitely remember you throwing up on my shoes too,” he says, laughing as she shoves at his chest. “I also remember the look on Marilla’s face when I had to carry you into the house and put you to bed because I had nightmares about her never letting you hang out with me ever again, but… I remember everything about you, Anne-girl. I…study you, _memorise_ you.”

“Oh, Gil…”

She kisses him, her fingers toying with his hair. He sighs as she pulls away, smiling when their eyes meet.

“Eyes,” she says. At his raised eyebrows, she clarifies, “Your eyes. It would take an entire _essay_ just to describe the colour of your eyes. When people say they’re brown I want to scream, because they’re _hazel_ , but in certain light they look almost green, and in sunlight there are little flecks of gold in them that look like…fairy lights. And when it’s dark and they look so warm and brown, it makes me think of spun sugar and it always, somehow, feels just a tiny bit like Christmas. And when you look at the sea the green in them almost looks blue. And no matter what colour they look like, or where we are, they’re always…shining.”

He swallows. “Maybe because I’m looking at you.”

“Flirt!” she accuses, smiling softly.

He pushes her hair behind her ear, smiling. “No, _this_ is flirting; I really like your mouth.” She bites her lip, and he tugs it free with his thumb, saying, “You have the most perfect lips I’ve ever seen, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. And not just because I’ve been dying to kiss you ever since we met.”

She grins. “I like the way you get really passionate when you talk about medicine. It’s really cute how excited you get about medical research like the huge nerd that you are.”

“ _I’m_ a huge nerd? We tied for valedictorian, Cuthbert.”

Her grin widens. “Oh it’s Cuthbert now, is it?”

He kisses the grin off her face, smiling himself. “I still can’t believe I get to do this now,” he murmurs, tracing her bottom lip with his thumb. “That I get to kiss this perfect, kissable mouth.”

She kisses him again, sitting astride him, her hands on his chest. Gilbert is tracing each and every indent in her spine carefully when her lips suddenly still against his. Gilbert pulls away curiously to a painfully familiar look on her face.

“Do you…” she starts, her brow furrowed and her eyes suddenly a little darker, a little doubtful. “Do you really love _me_ , Gil? Really and truly?”

Years earlier, when Gilbert had ended things with Winifred, Anne had been absolutely _flummoxed_ ; torn over wanting to yell at him about why he would do such a thing and wanting to comfort him over the longest, most exhausting breakup conversation there had ever been. And while her hands had been doing all the right things, rubbing his back as he pretended he wasn’t about to cry and holding his hand whenever it started to shake, her entire face was screaming her doubt and confusion over the whole thing. 

Eventually it had turned into an argument, which had oddly made Gilbert feel a little better (bickering with Anne, after all, was one of his favourite things to do). Anne had looked at him with that utterly heartbreaking look on her face, shouting that if he couldn’t love someone as perfect as Winifred then _what the hell kind of woman was he looking for_? The argument had devolved from there, into shouts of “Well how the hell am I supposed to know what I’m looking for?” and “We’re not kids anymore, Gilbert, you can’t throw women away like…” and “What do you mean _throw,_ I didn’t _throw her away_ what the hell, Anne?”

But Gilbert had never forgotten the look on Anne’s face. The way she had looked so scared, so full of utter disbelief. The way she had looked like it was her heart he had broken instead of Winifred’s.

And even though he’s told her he loved her, even though they’re both in bed half naked and he had woken her up trying to cuddle her to death, the same look is on her face now; wary and doubtful and disbelieving. And his heart cracks a little; his arms dying to wrap themselves around her, wishing he could take all her pain away. Wishing that he could take away every bad thing that happened to her in foster care and group homes before the Cuthberts took her in. Wishing that he could tell her how he can’t believe anyone on this earth would think that Anne Shirley-Cuthbert deserves anything less than everything her heart has ever desired. How he can’t believe anyone would tell her that she would never be loved, because she is the brightest, kindest, most beautiful soul he has ever met and he _loves_ her.

Then he remembers that he _can_ do all those things now, and immediately sits up and takes her hands in his to kiss her knuckles tenderly. 

Her lips quirk into a small, careful smile, and he kisses both her hands again, tears suddenly filling his eyes without him realising he was crying.

“Yes, Anne,” he says softly. “I love you. So _much_. Ever since we met, even when I was really trying not to, I only ever loved _you_.”

Her soft sigh is the most relieved sound he’s ever heard. “Really?”

“Yeah, Anne-girl. Really.”

Her hands are gentle as she wipes away his tears, saying, “I love you so much too, Gilbert Blythe.”

He leans his forehead on hers and feels her smile against his cheek. “I didn’t know that our weekend in bed was going to involve me crying as soon as I woke up.”

Anne laughs, dispelling the strangeness in the air. She kisses his cheek, saying, “I’m sorry, I just…sometimes I get these thoughts in my head and I don’t know if it’s just my brain being contrary about something that I _know_ is real, or if it’s some deep, dark insecurity, or…”

“Don’t be sorry,” he interrupts, smiling. “Really. If you need to hear that I love you, I’ll always be happy to tell you, in great detail, how you’ve always been the only girl for me.”

“How detailed are we talking here?” she asks, grinning as she puts her arms around his neck.

“Well, depends how talkative Bash is feeling that day, I guess,” he quips, making her positively explode with laughter. “There’s the ‘in denial since I met him’ version and the ‘it’s so hard to give this moke lessons about love when he doesn’t recognise it even when it hits him in the head with a textbook’ version and let’s not forget the ‘he spent one dance practice with her and started talking about destiny’ version.”

Anne is laughing so hard he’s pretty sure Bash can hear her back in Avonlea. 

“Was this the dance practice we did for our _very important roles_ as backup dancers in the school play?” she asks, still giggling. At his nod, she continues, “Well? What did you say to him that you think he’d still make fun of you for it?”

“Think?” Gilbert exclaims. “I don’t _think_ it, I _know_ it, because he still talks about it. He probably mentioned it like two weeks ago.”

“ _Still_?” Anne laughs. “It was years ago!”

Gilbert smiles and pulls her close. “Well, I may have been in a bit of a state at the time. I think my exact words were ‘if I feel a thing in my chest trying to choke me from the inside that also makes me really giddy whenever I look at Anne I MEAN A GIRL, does that mean that she’s… _the one_ or whatever?’ You really pulled a number on poor younger Gilbert.”

“ _Me_?” Anne asks, laughing. “You were the one who yanked me out of formation so I could dance with you, in front of the entire cast. Do you have any idea how hard you made my heart pound that day?”

He smiles. “You looked happy though.”

“I _was_ happy,” she says, twirling a lock of his hair around her finger. “Gilbert Blythe wanted to dance with little old me.”

“You were positively radiant that day, Anne-girl. I couldn’t take my eyes off you, the way you laughed whenever I twirled you around.”

“And you went home and asked Bash if that meant I was the one?” she clarifies, grinning as she tugs on his hair gently.

“He started dancing around the kitchen when he heard it. Started yelling for Mary and woke Dellie up from her nap. I threw the entire house into chaos because of you,” he teases. “Kept telling him that he wasn’t answering my question, or helping in any way."

Anne tucks her face into his neck as she laughs. “God, you really are cute enough to eat.”

Gilbert chuckles as he rubs her back. “So I’ve heard from a very reliable source that rhymes with ‘mole’.”

Anne goes back to tracing shapes into his chest, saying, “Whenever you talk about Mary and Bash and Dellie I can’t help but think that…I love how much you love your family, and how much you care about mine. Matthew and Marilla, they adore you; sometimes more than I do, I think. Even with Cole and Diana, I see how wonderful you are to them, and it just makes me fall even more in love with you.”

He kisses her forehead softly. “How do you think I feel every time I see you laughing with Bash, or cooking with Mary or playing with Dellie? You welcomed them with open arms and part of the reason they fell in love with Avonlea was because of you.”

She hides her adorable blush in his neck. “Stop that.”

He grins into her hair. “What? It’s true.”

She shifts to kiss him, slow and lazy. He makes a contented noise in the back of his throat that makes her smile into the kiss, and he slowly strokes down her spine. She moves her hips against his, languid and unhurried, and he presses his hand into her ass, guiding her movements as he hardens in his pyjama pants. 

“I have an idea, brought about by a craving,” Anne says, between kisses. 

“I’m scared to ask,” Gilbert replies, grinning against her lips. 

“Not _that_ kind of craving.” Anne bites at his lower lip carefully before kissing him again. “Although, at some point I probably will have those types of cravings too.”

“Don’t tempt me, Anne-girl,” he says, kissing her jaw and brushing his lips down her neck.

“Mmmm, that’s…that’s nice,” she breathes as he leaves open-mouthed kisses up and down her neck. “I was talking about sun-dried tomatoes.”

Gilbert’s mouth pauses from where he’s sucking on her pulse point. “Sorry?”

“I thought we could go to the Farmers Market on Ashton Street, get some tomatoes that we can ‘sun-dry’ in the oven,” she says, pulling back to look at him with a smile. “I know I said we’d stay in bed all weekend, but I thought maybe…it could be our first date.”

“That…” Gilbert’s smile is wide and unfettered. “That sounds great. As far as first dates go, it sounds very… _us_.”

“I thought so too!” she exclaims proudly, grinning widely. “And um… I thought maybe I should call Matthew and Marilla. Tell them about us.”

“Oh,” Gilbert says, his face falling. “Oh no.”

“What?” she asks, confused. “Did you not want them to know?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” he says, giving her a quick squeeze. “I just realised how insufferable Bash is going to be. My life is never going to be the same, Anne.”

She laughs heartily and kisses his cheek. “I feel ever so sorry for you,” she says softly. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

A brainwave hits Gilbert and his grin is devious and Cheshire Cat-like. “You know what, Anne-girl? I think there is.”

Gilbert stands in the kitchen in his pyjama pants sleepily, waiting for the water to boil so he can make himself and Anne some coffee. He pulls up FaceTime on his phone and calls Bash, staring at the kettle. 

“Brother!” Bash’s voice is large, even on the phone, and it makes Gilbert grin. “I see you survived the pre-midterm week that you were so worried about.”

Before Gilbert can respond, he hears Mary yell, “Is that Gilbert?” in the background, and he hears a cacophony of stomping noises that can only mean one thing.

“Uncle Gilby!” Dellie yells as her little face appears on the screen. “I miss you!”

“Hey, bluebell,” Gilbert replies, his face splitting in half with the enormity of his smile. “I miss you too. How was school this week? Did you ace that spelling test like I said you would?”

“Only two wrong!” she says proudly. “Papa says I’m as good at spelling as you and Auntie Anne! And I don’t forget the E’s like you.”

“I bet,” Gilbert agrees, as he hears Anne giggle to herself as she peruses the contents of her fridge, making a list of things she wants to get at the farmers market. 

“Mama says I’m going to big-girl school next year,” she continues, happily. “And that my friends Jamie and Tara will be coming with me!”

“First grade,” Gilbert muses. “When did you grow up, Dellie? I thought you were going to stay small and be my little niece forever.”

“But Uncle Gilby!” Dellie protests. “I need to learn the big-girl books like Auntie Anne so we can be kin…what’s the word, Papa?”

“Kindred spirits, Dellie,” Bash says, reappearing on the screen. “But Uncle Gilby is right, you were supposed to be Papa’s little girl forever. How can you do that if you’re going off to big-girl school with your big-girl friends, huh?”

Bash tickles Dellie teasingly, making her squeal for her mama. Mary appears over Bash’s shoulder and tuts at Gilbert, shaking her head.

“You’re skin and bone, Gilbert Blythe!” she scolds. “Do you just stop eating when I’m not around to feed you?”

“I miss you too, Mary,” Gilbert says, grinning. “It’s a terrible thing to have coffee in the morning without your eggs.”

Gilbert adjusts the phone once the kettle is done, putting it on a shelf so his hands are free to make coffee. Bash’s eyes narrow as he sees Gilbert, still in his pyjamas, and obviously not in his own apartment.

“Mary,” Bash says, a tone of caution in his voice. “I’m taking my phone outside for a minute; I need to talk to Blythe.”

At Dellie’s exclamation that she wasn’t done talking to Uncle Gilby, Bash is quick to reassure her that he’ll just be a minute then she can have the phone. Gilbert hides his smile as he reaches for a pack of instant coffee, appearing supremely unconcerned as he hears Bash stomp outside.

“Mind explaining yourself, Blythe?” Bash says, quiet and a little angry. “I thought we had a conversation about this.”

“What are you talking about?” Gilbert says, struggling to keep a straight face as he makes his coffee.

“Really, boy? You spend the night with some girl, I’m assuming, and then you call your niece, _still undressed_ , from her kitchen? I thought you were done dating. What are you thinking, fooling around with some girl when you know how you feel about Anne? You know this isn’t fair to the girl! Who’s this poor, unsuspecting woman whose feelings you’ve decided to mess with? Of all the _stupid_ …”

“Morning, Bash,” Anne announces happily, appearing over Gilbert’s shoulder as he finally starts sniggering to himself, having barely managed to hold in his laughter at Bash’s rant. “Poor, unsuspecting woman here. How’s your day been so far?”

The look on Bash’s face is utterly _priceless_. His eyes are wide and his eyebrows look like they’ve left his face. He stands very, very still as Anne starts to giggle, and slaps himself, twice, before saying, “I’m not dreaming?”

“Nope,” Gilbert says, looking at Anne dopily. 

“The boy finally made a move?” Bash asks Anne, the corners of his mouth starting to twitch. 

“I think we _both_ finally made a move,” Anne replies, resting her chin on Gilbert’s shoulder as she smiles at him. 

“MARY!” Bash suddenly yells, making Anne and Gilbert jump. “MARY! My love, you’ll never guess what’s happened!”

Mary’s perplexed face comes onto the screen as Bash hands her his phone, and she sees Anne and Gilbert laughing at Bash’s exuberance. 

“Hi, Mary,” Anne says. “I think we gave Bash a heart attack.”

“They’re finally together, my girl,” Bash yells from behind Mary somewhere. “It’s finally happened!”

They hear Dellie squeal, and Mary switches the call from front to back camera so they can see Bash carrying Dellie around the living room, dancing and singing, “I _win_. _I told you_ , Blythe. _I told you_ this would happen. I wiiiinnnnnn.”

Mary’s face comes back on the screen, grinning. “I think you kids broke my husband.”

“He was like that when I found him, Mary, I swear,” Gilbert says, grinning as Anne laughs into the back of his shoulder, putting her arms around his waist.

Bash and Dellie appear behind Mary, and Dellie’s delighted “Auntie Anne! I miss you!” prompts Anne to take the phone off the kitchen shelf for some girl talk. She sits on the couch in the living room, and when Gilbert brings her her coffee, his stomach twists as he sees Anne, talking and laughing on the phone with his family. He sits next to her, kissing her shoulder before facing the music. 

“How are you doing over there, Blythe?” Bash asks, a grinning Dellie on his lap.

“Very, very well,” he says, grinning back. “How are you doing?”

“Feeling proud and smug, brother.”

“Your papa’s a _pain_ , bluebell. You get all of your cuteness from your mama, don’t forget, okay?”

“She knows,” Bash says, kissing Dellie’s head as she giggles. “What are you two up to today?”

“The farmers market. Apparently sun-dried tomatoes has become a necessity today,” Gilbert says, grinning at Anne.

“Our first date,” Anne tells Bash. 

Bash laughs. “Well, don’t let us stop you. Call us later, alright?”

“Bye, Uncle Gilby! Bye, Auntie Anne!”

Anne and Gilbert say their goodbyes and send air kisses before they hang up, a yelled “Eat something today, Gilbert!” from Mary serving as her goodbye. 

Anne slumps back into the couch as she sips her coffee. “Now Matthew and Marilla?” she asks, grinning. “Although, we might want to be fully dressed for that one.”

He puts his arm around her, pulling her into his chest and kissing her temple. “In a minute, Anne-girl.”

“Are you almost ready?” Gilbert calls from where he’s sprawled out on the bed.

“You have no patience, Gilbert Blythe,” Anne calls back from the bathroom where she’s getting ready for the farmers market and their call with Matthew and Marilla.

Gilbert grins at the ceiling. “I waited eight long years for you to say you love me, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. I’ve got plenty of patience.”

“You did not want me to tell you I love you when we were _thirteen_ ,” she protests, laughing. 

“Sure I did. You were cute.” 

Anne walks out of the bathroom, looking beautiful in an oversized white sweater that hangs to her thighs and black skinny jeans. 

Her nose scrunches when she looks at him, saying, “Oh. You have a shirt on. How terribly disappointing.”

He sits up a little, leaning back on his elbows. “You’re very welcome to come over here and take it off,” he offers, smirking. “I don’t at all mind that being the start of our first date.”

Anne laughs, grabbing her phone before settling in next to him. “Well unfortunately for you, we have a very different start to our first date planned. Ready for your first conversation with my parents as my boyfriend?”

Gilbert looks around before he says, “Maybe we shouldn’t be in your bed while we have that conversation?”

“Oh shit, yeah. Good call,” she says, clambering out of the bed. 

They make the call once they’ve made themselves comfortable on the couch, and when Marilla picks up, she has a smudge of flour on her cheek. 

“Anne! And I see Gilbert is there too! How are you both doing?” she asks, smiling kindly. 

“Hi Marilla,” Anne says, her smile wide. “We’re very, very good. Where’s Matthew?”

“Where do you think? He’s out in the barn, of course. Something wrong with the tractor, I think.”

“Tell him to call Bash if he can’t figure it out,” Gilbert chimes in. “How are you Marilla?”

“Oh, I’m very well, thank you Gilbert. What are the two of you up to today? Going on a tour of cafes again to find the best one to study in?”

Anne looks at Gilbert, smiling. “I forgot we did that.”

“And eventually, of course, ended up on the campus library because it was still better.”

“And quieter, I imagine,” Marilla adds. She puts her phone down to roll out some dough. “Here comes Matthew now. Matthew, come say hello to Anne and Gilbert.”

Matthew clomps in noisily and appears next to Marilla, wiping his hands on a rag. “Oh, hello you two. Bash just called.”

Anne and Gilbert both freeze and try very hard not to look at each other.

“Oh,” Gilbert says.

Matthew smiles, and taps the side of his nose like he always does when he figures out what mischief they’ve been up to. “He shared some interesting news.”

“Because he just couldn’t wait to let us tell you ourselves?” Anne says, laughing.

“He was very excited,” Marilla says, smirking. “And he thought you called us before you called him.”

“We’re very happy for you both,” Matthew says, smiling shyly. “And we hope you know that.”

“Thank you, Matthew,” Gilbert says, his heart in his throat as he looks at the kindest man he knows, the man whose love brought Anne into his life. “I’m so glad to hear it.”

“We’re trusting you both to know your priorities and your responsibilities, with your education especially, and to keep each other safe and happy,” Marilla says sternly. “Be good to each other, and we’re always here if you need us. Both of you.”

“Marilla…” Anne says, a little teary now. 

Marilla smiles knowingly. “I’m glad you’re not making the same mistakes I did like we talked about, dear heart.”

Anne leans a little closer to Gilbert as she smiles, and Gilbert resists the urge to kiss her head, not knowing how comfortable she was with PDA in front of her parents. He takes her hand and squeezes it gently instead. 

“We’re actually heading to a farmers market because I was longing for some tomatoes to sun-dry and put in a pasta, like you always make at home, Marilla,” Anne says. “I’ve been craving it all week.”

“I’ll be sure to make it for you the next time you’re home for the weekend,” Marilla says, her eyes twinkling as she continues with her baking. “Now, the two of you should get off the phone before Rachel gets here. She’ll be spreading the news to all of Avonlea I’m sure, and I don’t think any of us wants this news to travel at Rachel-speed to the entire town.”

Anne and Gilbert laugh and say their goodbyes, Anne blowing kisses to her parents before ending the call.

“That went…better than I expected,” Anne says slowly, frowning into her lap.

Gilbert laughs. “What were you expecting? That Matthew would rush over to have me drawn and quartered?”

“Of course not. That only would have happened if we’d made the call in bed and you had no shirt on, and it would have been _Marilla_ rushing over to have you drawn and quartered while Matthew tried the whole time to talk her out of it.”

“That…is actually fair,” Gilbert says, nodding slowly. “Just one thing, though.”

She turns to him. “What’s that, love?”

He smiles and kisses her, deep and languorous. She hums in surprise, and lets him lower her so she’s lying on the sofa. He gets on top of her, still kissing her, and feels her trail her foot up his calf. He rubs their noses together as their lips part, and she pulls him close wrapping her arms and legs around him. 

He grins, kissing her again, and the moan she lets out is positively _debauched_ , startling him. 

“God. Gil, you make me feel so…”

Heat fills him with a vengeance. “So…?” he prompts, his breath stuck somewhere in his chest. 

She kisses him instead of responding, arching her back and pressing her chest to his. Gilbert groans, slipping an arm around her back to press her to him, crushing her breasts into his chest. Anne cries out at the feeling, throwing her head back onto the couch cushion. 

He puts his mouth to her bared neck, and she gasps out a wrecked “ _Yes_ , yes Gil just like that.” 

He growls against her neck, tangling his fingers into her hair as he kisses her again, exploring the wet heat of her mouth. He feels her tug at his hair as their tongues tangle, feels her slip her hand under his shirt to dig her nails into the small of his back. 

“Tell me what you were going to say, Anne-girl,” he says, his entire being suffused with heat. “I make you so what?”

She whines desperately as he tugs the collar of her sweater down to reveal the tops of her breasts, kissing the soft flesh. Her grip on him tightens when he bites her there gently, half crazed with wanting her. 

“You…” she gasps. “You make me so hot for you, Gil. I’m so…on edge all the fucking time. I want you so bad.”

“Yeah?” He growls into her breast. “How much do you want me, Anne?”

He starts pulling up her sweater, kissing the soft skin of her stomach. He catches her eye as his mouth trails lower, his tongue dipping into her belly button. Her stomach spasms at his every touch, and her breathing is heavy, her breasts heaving as she pants. 

He pushes the sweater up to her armpits, revealing her breasts clad in black lace. He fondles her breasts, and she arches her back to push her breasts more firmly into his hands. He murmurs his approval into her ribs, hearing her breath catch as he nips at her skin. Her nipples press into his palms through the lace, and she puts her own hands above his, both their hands squeezing her wanting breasts. 

Gilbert sucks on the skin right above her navel, leaving a bright red mark there before his mouth trails lower, right to the button of her jeans. He slips his tongue under the waistband, teasing her until she’s sighing and gasping with utter abandon, thrusting her hips into his chest. 

“Gil…” Anne gasps, her hands digging into his shoulders. “Gil…baby please, you need to stop before I take all my clothes off and throw myself at you.”

Gilbert’s hands and mouth still, and he groans at the image in his head of him and Anne, naked and intertwined, of him driving into her until she comes, over and over until she begs him to stop. 

He doesn’t move for a long time, his hands still on her breasts and his face buried in her stomach as he gets his breathing and his body under control. Anne’s panting slows gradually, and she traces his knuckles as his hands stay on her body, unmoving. Eventually he presses one last kiss to her stomach, his eyes lingering on the hickey he left there, lifting himself off her to pull her sweater back down to her hips. Anne’s smile is bemused as he falls into her arms, tucking his face into her neck and wrapping his arms around her waist. 

They lie there, silently cuddling. Anne’s fingers are soothing as they comb through his curls. 

“You okay?” he asks, his thumb rubbing circles into the small of her back.

“More than,” she whispers, a smile in her voice. “Are you?”

He smiles softly. “More than.”

“Farmers market?”

“Absolutely.”

The first stall they see at the farmers market is selling flowers, and Anne’s eyes light up. 

“Flowers in fall, Gil!” she exclaims, holding his hand in both of hers as she tugs him over. “Oh, don’t they look beautiful?”

The woman manning the little shop catches Gilbert’s eye and they exchange smiles at Anne’s exuberant praise of some sunflowers. 

“Some flowers for your partner?” the woman asks kindly. “A few sunflowers, maybe?”

“She likes lilies of the valley better,” Gilbert replies, smiling. “If you have any.”

“Gil,” Anne chastises gently. “That is so sweet, but don’t waste your money. You should spend it on your groceries instead.”

The woman smiles. “Ah, the woes of a student; food or presents for your girlfriend. Tell you what, a single aster in exchange for you telling someone you know who can afford to give their significant other some flowers about my humble little flower shop.”

“Oh,” Anne gasps. “Asters, _asters_ …oh Gil I _know_ this one. It means…”

“Love and wisdom,” the woman replies from somewhere inside the stall. “Perfect for a young couple still working on college, don’t you think?”

She emerges from the stall with a single white aster that she hands to Gilbert. He, in turn, tucks it behind Anne’s ear, making her smile prettily. 

“Thank you, Miss…” Gilbert says, turning back to the woman.

The woman laughs. “Gardenia, believe it or not. Almost like I was meant to be a florist.”

Anne and Gilbert laugh. 

“It’s lovely to meet you, Miss Gardenia,” Anne says. “I can’t help but think of anyone who knows the meanings of flowers offhand as a most dear kindred spirit.” 

“Oh, how nice,” Miss Gardenia says, looking a little flustered as she laughs, disposing of a stray leaf from a pot of orchids. “I do enjoy meeting people who love flowers too.”

“She used to show up in middle school with flowers in her hair,” Gilbert supplies. He turns to Anne, who’s rolling her eyes, saying, “A real dryad, this one.”

“Well, I won’t keep you from your shopping,” Miss Gardenia says, grinning widely at the both of them. “Off you go, struggling students.”

Anne and Gilbert laugh and wave goodbye as they express their thanks, Anne pulling Gilbert to another stall wide a wide array of vegetables on display.

“This place is my favourite,” Anne whispers almost reverently as she eyes the display. “I love their tomatoes and even their cauliflowers, when they have them.”

“Is that Miss Anne?” a voice chimes.

“It’s me, Mr. Rupert!” Anne calls back. “I see your tomatoes looking as beautiful as ever!”

An older man appears from behind a basket full of zucchini, wearing a t-shirt and jeans with a green apron on top. His face is weather beaten and kind, deep laugh lines around his eyes that deepen as he spots Anne.

“Oh, and you brought a friend with you today,” the man says, smiling. “How are you lovely young people doing?”

“Very well, thank you,” Gilbert says, smiling back. 

Mr. Rupert turns to Anne expectantly, saying, “Well, what’ll you be taking today?”

Anne rattles off the list of vegetables she’s looking for and Gilbert goes straight for the tomatoes. They do look delicious; red and ripe and juicy. His mouth waters as he starts choosing some, already thinking of how delicious Anne’s pasta is going to be.

They wander around after, looking for all the things on Anne’s list on her phone. Gilbert thinks to himself, as Anne lets go of his hand to run off to a fruit stall, that he’s never enjoyed walking around a farmers market so much. But, he supposes, he’d never been to one with Anne on his arm before. He’d probably enjoy a Shakespeare reading by Charlie Sloane if Anne was next to him, and that’s _really_ saying something.

“Gil!” Anne calls excitedly. “They have sorbet! Do you want some?”

They choose a dragonfruit and banana sorbet to share, and find a bench to sit on as they eat it. Anne feeds him the first spoonful, and he’s surprised at the mixture of flavours and how much he likes it.

“Good?” Anne asks, getting her own spoonful.

“Surprisingly so,” Gilbert says. “And I really like this colour.”

“Dragonfruit _is_ the most scrumptious pinkish purple,” Anne agrees. “I bet your mouth gets stained before mine.”

He laughs. “Unfair bet! You’ll just feed me more sorbet than you and you’ll win!”

Anne’s grin is wide, and she presses her lips to his cheek, slightly cool from the sorbet. He steals her spoon, and feeds her the next spoonful.

“Why do I feel like you’re sneakily trying to win this bet now?” Anne asks, laughing.

“Maybe I just wanna see what your lips look like stained with this colour,” he says, his voice low in her ear.

“You are such a relentless flirt, Gilbert Blythe,” she announces, grinning. “I’m really enjoying it.”

They both laugh, and Anne leans her head on his shoulder as they continue to enjoy the fruity dessert. 

“Can I make a very cheesy, first date request?” Gilbert asks, as she munches on the tiny pieces of dragonfruit in the sorbet. 

At her enthusiastic nod, he says, “Tell me something about you that nobody else knows.”

“For blackmail?” she asks, faux shocked with a hand to her chest.

He laughs, saying, “Come on…one tiny little thing. About your first toy, or the first time you hated a teacher in school.”

She looks at him and visibly swallows.

“You just thought of something,” he murmurs. “What is it?”

“It’s kinda embarrassing,” she admits, her smile small and shy.

“Well now you _have_ to tell me!”

She chuckles, leaning into his side. He nudges her knee with his softly, and she moves so her legs are draped over his thigh. He hands her the sorbet so he can put his arms around her, getting them comfortable. 

“Okay. Okay, okay,” she says, like she’s psyching herself up, vigorously poking at the sorbet. “In high school, sometimes I’d hide in the auditorium during lunch. Sometimes I’d just eat backstage, sometimes I practiced reciting poetry, or reading monologues from plays, sometimes I’d practice my acceptance speech for my Pulitzer.” 

Gilbert laughs. “I am so curious about how that acceptance speech sounds, but go on.”

Anne tucks herself closer to him, continuing, “One day, you and Winifred walked in.”

Gilbert’s arm tightens around her, and Anne looks at him gratefully, comfortingly. 

“It’s strange,” he says. “I haven’t thought about her in years, and now that I’m finally with you, this is the most I’ve thought about her since then.”

Anne smiles. “I think about her sometimes. About all the girls you’ve ever dated, I think.”

“Why?” he asks softly.

Her smile takes on a hint of melancholy. “Denial is its own kind of torment, you know. Knowing and also not knowing how I felt about you was _so_ confusing. Seeing you with other women was…it made me so sad. And because I didn’t know why I was sad, I’d get angry. And when I got angry at myself for not being in control of my emotions, I’d get angry at you, for daring to be able to affect my emotions in the first place.”

Gilbert kisses her temple gently. Anne laughs to herself as she feeds him another spoonful of sorbet. 

“So I’d think about these girls, wondering what about them made me so sad. I thought about Winifred the most because she was the only one you really seemed…serious about.”

“That’s one way of looking at it, I guess,” Gilbert says thoughtfully. “What looked serious to you was…don’t get me wrong, Winifred was great. And I couldn’t fault her for anything, you know? She was funny and smart and supportive and she laughed at my jokes and she…didn’t blink an eye when I introduced Bash as my family. But…”

Anne’s eyes are wide. “But?”

“When Mary had that scare…with cancer…” He stops to take in a shuddered breath and Anne puts the sorbet down so she can cup his face, her sorbet-cooled fingers stroking his cheek in quiet support. He smiles at her and kisses her palm in thanks. “Anyway, the oncologist had to come in and prepare us for the worst. She was great you know, giving us the best and worst case scenarios and trying to keep our spirits up and I just remember thinking…I’m gonna have to do this one day. Tell a family that they’re about to lose someone, and that there was nothing I could do. And I had wanted to be a doctor for years but _that_ was the moment it became so…”

“Real,” Anne supplies. 

His smile is soft. “Yeah. And so, in my confusion, obviously I talked to you about it. And it was such a comfort to me, Anne-girl. You were so absolutely _sure_ that I’d be a great doctor.”

“A _wonderful_ doctor,” she corrects, her face lighting up in recognition of the conversation. “Because you care so deeply…”

“And caring deeply will always be the right thing,” he finishes, smiling. “You remember that?”

“Of course I do,” she insists. “You were so sad about it, all torn up and confused. It broke my heart.”

“And then it turned out to be benign and we were all so relieved. And I told Winnie about it, all the stuff I had talked to you about. And she was supportive too; she said that if I chose not to pursue medicine after all, that I’d be great at whatever else I chose to do with my life. Which was great, it just wasn’t… _right_.”

He looks up into Anne’s lovely, clear blue-grey eyes. “That was when I realised how much time I spent comparing her to you. Every look, every touch, every conversation with you I cherished _so much_. And it wasn’t like that with her. It was fun, and I enjoyed her company but I didn’t cherish her the way I did you. The way I _still_ cherish every moment I spend with you, to this day. Nothing and no girl could compare.”

Anne’s smile is watery as she leans in to kiss him, sweet and soft. “You really are my own Mr. Darcy, Gilbert Blythe. You know that?”

He leans his forehead against hers. “I always knew you were my Lizzy Bennet, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert.”

He kisses her again, and picks up the unfinished sorbet from the bench. 

“I didn’t finish my story!” she says suddenly, when he tries to give her some sorbet. “You interrupted me!”

“Oh shit, yeah,” Gilbert realises. “The auditorium. I walked in with Winnie, and I have a terrible feeling about where this is going because the only reason I ever went in there with her…”

“Was to make out, yeah,” Anne interrupts, laughing. “Which was… I mean I had been having a shit day _already_ , and then you guys walked in and started kissing and it was too late for me to say that I was there and leave so you guys could continue…and I just thought _this is it_. This is the moment I give up on life.” She narrows her eyes before Gilbert can open his mouth, saying, “ _Yes_ , I was very dramatic back then, what of it, and _shut up_.”

“ _Was_?” he teases, nudging her.

“Shut _up_!” she exclaims, her eyes dancing with laughter. “Anyway, so there I was, hiding off-stage behind the curtains, just lying on the floor and hating my life and I heard her ask you what was wrong.”

Gilbert frowns, trying to remember as Anne continues, “And you didn’t answer for a really long time. It was a really, _really_ long time, because even in my horror and embarrassment and giving up on life-ness, I remember wondering if I should take a peek, see if you were okay. And when you finally spoke up your voice got really weird, and you, out of _nowhere_ , quoted Prometheus Unbound.”

Gilbert’s eyes widen in horror. “When soul meets soul on lovers lips,” he remembers. “I remember getting into a huge argument with you about how a soul can recognise a soul.”

“About whether it was romantic or a hint at reincarnation or…god there were so many options,” Anne agrees, smiling. “So your girlfriend asks you, in the middle of what sounded like some very intense kissing, if you were okay, and you said, very weirdly, ‘when soul meets soul on lovers lips’. She laughed, and she asked you what the hell you were talking about, and then the bell rang and you guys had to get to class. And I just laid there for a long time, wondering what the hell that was about.”

Anne nestles into him as she finishes her story, taking the sorbet from him to continue her snacking. She fishes out pieces of dragonfruit to feed to him, and he distractedly chews on them, deep in thought.

“And you didn’t tell anyone?” he asks, trying to fish out a dragonfruit seed that’s caught between his teeth.

“Of course not Gil, it seemed really private and I…probably also didn’t want to admit that I was burning with curiosity about it.”

He laughs, pulling her close and sighing into her hair. “I love you,” he says quietly.

“Really? I tell you I was, and _am_ , burning with curiosity and you try to head me off with ‘I love you’?”

Gilbert laughs again, saying, “I mean, it’s no great story, Anne-girl. Winnie was my…my _learning_ relationship, in some ways. And the lesson I learned that day, which I’m sorry you had to witness by the way, was that…kissing should involve the heart as much as it involves the body.”

Anne looks up at him, frowning wonderingly, and he continues, “I kissed her with my mouth. I kiss you with my mouth, and my heart, and my soul.”

“Yeah?” she asks, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright.

“Yeah.”

“Show me, Gil.”

They kiss on a random bench facing a farmers market, her legs draped across his lap and her hands clutching at a mostly empty cup of sorbet, their mouths cold and stained dark pink from dragonfruit. It is gentle and tender and brief, but it makes his heart lift and his soul break out in song; a kiss for the ages that feels like a perfect new beginning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YUPPP it's a long one isn't it? 😅
> 
> I don't even know, you guys. I sat down and started writing and just...didn't stop. The news about being stuck at home for another two weeks had to manifest itself somewhere apparently, and chose to come out of me in the form of fanfic. And so this chapter happened. I was tempted to split it in two, but I really wanted to get them to their first date at least so you guys could enjoy it 😊
> 
> Let me know what you guys think so far, if you feel so inclined! And I hope you're all staying safe out there ❤️


	8. Thank God not all frat boys are evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne and Gil have a study date, Gilbert rewards himself with orange tea, and Josie gets some good news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely people! I hope you're all having a great day!
> 
> So, to be honest, I really don't know where the later half of this chapter came from. I guess I didn't want to leave some stuff hanging, and needed some kind of resolution. I can assure you that I myself was not aware of this until I started writing 😂
> 
> Enjoy!

Anne giggles, wrapping her arms around Gilbert’s neck as he plants a soft kiss on the crown of her head. They’re sprawled on her living room floor, her books and notes all over the coffee table, and his textbooks, laptop and flash cards spread out on the floor surrounding him. 

It’s a Wednesday night and both of them had been, until a few moments before, furiously preparing for their midterms. Gilbert had a paper late the next morning and Anne had one the afternoon of the day after. Given that they’d both been study buddies for years and years, Anne had thought nothing of inviting him over after their classes were done for the day to study together. They were both, of course, studying for very different subjects, but they still managed to help each other; whether it was explaining a difficult concept to the other so they could grasp it better themselves, or helping to quiz each other. 

They had both long settled into her living room and in their usual positions, at times quietly studying, and at other times quizzing each other briefly on what they had already covered. At least, that’s what they had been doing for the past hour and a half after they had cobbled a quick dinner together in Anne’s kitchen. Then Anne had announced that she was dying and crawled over to Gilbert to demand his attention. 

He was (obviously) only too happy to lavish it on her. 

“Is this how you usually study anatomy, Dr. Blythe?” Anne asks cheekily as he nuzzles into her shoulder. 

“Well, technically we’re taking a break,” he says, grinning. “Did you change your mind? Do you not need one?”

She yelps at the coolness of the floor as he lays her down on it, hovering above her. She pulls him in for a kiss and he obliges, sipping at her perfectly cool lips. She makes a deep, contented hum against his mouth that sounds like she’s relieved at the pressure of his lips on hers. He almost gives in to the decadent temptation of her body, spread out on the floor, his for the tasting. 

He pulls away from her lips with great difficulty, but can’t resist giving her one last peck when she pouts adorably. 

“Come on, Anne,” he teases. “You helped me study this. Let’s see how much you remember.”

He reaches up to kiss the very top of her head. He looks at her expectantly, and she thins her lips before grudgingly saying, “It’s very unsportsmanlike to poke at my competitive nature, you know. Parietal bone.”

“Very good,” he says, smiling. “Now here.”

He presses a kiss to her forehead, and she says, “Frontal bone.” She gasps at the open mouthed kiss he presses to the back of the ear, but asks, “Does the temporal bone go that far?”

“Yup, that’s your temporal bone,” Gilbert clarifies. “How about…”

He kisses her jaw next. “Mandible.”

Then her collarbone. “Clavicle.”

He can’t resist sucking on her skin a little, lingering and deliberate, and she says, wry and smug, “I think you’re a little stuck on the same bone there, Doc.”

Gilbert chuckles, and obligingly drags his lips to the top of her chest, licking the skin there as Anne tilts her head back, offering her neck and chest to his wandering mouth. He stalls there, waiting for an answer, even as he itches to let his mouth travel lower, her skin so tantalisingly soft and sweet-smelling, bared by the tank top and shorts she had changed into after her shower. 

“Anne?” he asks, mouth barely moving away from her chest to speak. 

“Does it…start with M?” she asks, sounding just a little bit breathless. 

“Mmhmm,” he murmurs, trailing kisses up to her neck. “Give up?”

“Give me a…” She gasps as he sucks gently on her neck. “Give me a minute, I know it.”

“Do you?” he asks, making sure he hasn’t left any marks on her delicate skin before nibbling his way down to her chest.

“The only thing coming to mind is Manolo and I know…those are the shoes, not a bone,” Anne says, her arms stretching above her head as she sighs. “You’re not helping either, by the way.”

“Is that so?” he asks, grinning into the hollow of her throat. “Am I distracting you, Anne-girl?”

“Manubrium!” she exclaims suddenly, pumping a fist triumphantly. “ _Yes_! Told you I know it.”

“Yeah? What about this one?” He kisses between her breasts before nuzzling into her right breast softly.

Anne’s hand cards through his hair as he kisses her breast through her thin tank, and she sighs a barely audible “Sternum,” as his mouth drifts back to the bone.

She guides his face back up to hers for a kiss, her tongue tracing his bottom lip softly before slipping into his mouth. His appreciative groan is deep, the minty taste of her fresh on his tongue. 

“I can taste your peppermint tea,” he murmurs against her lips.

She giggles, saying, “I can taste your coffee.”

He kisses her again, relishing in the feel of her, the taste of her. She winds one bare leg around his calf, pulling his body down to cover hers. She moans as he settles his weight on her, their bodies pressed together hotly. 

“I’m crushing you,” he protests softly even as he allows her to pull him closer. 

“You’re fine for now,” she replies, smiling as she smoothes out the furrow in his brow with her thumb. “Kiss me.”

“You know,” he says between kisses. “We should have known we’d be a lot less productive studying together now.”

Anne’s grin is wide. “Well, that’s why we call it a study date. We studied for an hour and a half, now we can do the ‘date’ part for a bit.”

He makes a pleased noise in the back of his throat as she kisses him again. “I do like the date part.”

“I bet you do.”

Her hands wind into his hair, further mussing his already messy curls. Gilbert lets his hand trail from her shoulder down her arm, his lips following. Anne shivers when his mouth reaches the crook of her elbow, and he lingers there, the beginnings of stubble on his cheek rubbing into her skin as he kisses down her forearm.

“Trick question,” Anne breathes suddenly, making Gilbert look up from her arm. “There are two bones in the forearm and you’re kissing _between_ them. How dare you, Gilbert John Blythe?”

Gilbert laughs, startled out of the haze he’d gone into when she started kissing him, having forgotten entirely about their little anatomy game. “You think you’re funny, Cuthbert?”

“Well you’re laughing, aren’t you?” she retorts, bopping his nose playfully.

He narrows his eyes at her, pretending to be annoyed, and she laughs boisterously. 

“Well then, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert,” he says, kissing on one side of her forearm. “Get to it.”

“Radius,” she answers proudly. As he kisses the other side of her forearm, she says, “And ulna.”

“You’re going to be one of those substitute teachers who insists on the class learning something while their teacher isn’t around, aren’t you?” he asks, smiling into her skin as he kisses his way down her forearm to her wrist.

“You know it. I think I’m doing pretty well with Biology, don’t you?”

“Don’t get cocky, Anne-girl,” he says, his grin widening. “Pride comes before a fall, and all that.”

He kisses the outside of her wrist, looking up at her expectantly. She’s biting her lip, her eyes fixed on his mouth.

“This…this is the one I always got mixed up with,” she remembers, and he nods. “Um…tarsals?”

He shakes his head, kissing her wrist again. 

“Shit,” she breathes, watching intently as he trails his kisses to the inside of her wrist. She gasps at the touch of his tongue as he kisses her palm, massaging it gently. “So…tarsals are the bones in the feet then.”

“Mmhmm,” he murmurs into her palm. 

“Dammit Gil, I know this. The answer sounds kind of similar to tarsals and it starts with a…K?”

He shakes his head. “Pass?”

“We’ll come back to it,” she corrects. “Which means we pass on the bones in the palm too, because they’re called meta-something, which I’ll know when I figure out the previous bone.”

“Okay then,” Gilbert agrees, kissing her index and middle fingers before sucking them into his mouth.

Anne’s soft, open-mouthed cry shoots straight to his stomach, making it tighten. He catches her eye, watching her watch him suck gently on her fingers. 

“Phalanges,” she says shakily. “Same name as the bones of the toes.”

He smiles, and gently puts her hand down on her stomach. He slides down her body, letting his mouth brush down her kneecap.

“Patella,” Anne says, brushing his hair off his forehead.

He sneaks his tongue to the back of her knee, making her jerk in surprise. He just smiles and catches her eye as he kisses the outside of her calf.

“Fibula,” she says, shaking now. He kisses the inside of her calf, nuzzling her skin and she says, “Tibia… Gil?”

He looks up at her and is startled to see her eyes shiny with tears. 

“What’s wrong, Anne-girl?” he asks worriedly, wondering what happened and what he did. He immediately wants to hold her but worries that he might scare her off. So he stays where he is, waiting for her answer.

“Can you just…can you please hold me for a minute?” she asks, her voice small.

He pulls her up off the floor in the next instant and brings her into his lap, cuddling her into his chest. She settles into him gratefully, clutching at his t-shirt. He can see that she’s not crying, but her eyes are tightly shut, and she’s shaking ever so slightly in his arms. 

“I’m here, Anne-girl,” he soothes quietly as he rubs her back. “I’m right here.”

He kisses her temple gently, and she burrows deeper into his chest, her hand clutching at his bicep firmly. 

“I’m… I’m sorry I just…” she tries, trailing off softly.

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, pushing her hair off her face. “Just feel what you feel. I’m right here.”

She lets out a shaky laugh into his chest, and he smiles despite the worry rising in his throat. They sit there quietly for a while, entangled in each other. Gilbert forces himself to take deep, steady breaths, Anne gradually letting her own breathing slow to match his. 

“What would you…have asked me after tibia?” she asks softly, her voice still shaky, but a little more determined. 

Gilbert forces a chuckle that she seems to appreciate, letting out a giggle herself. “The vertebral column, probably. Would I have gotten you with that?”

“Shit,” she says, her laugh soft, but still there. “Probably. I don’t know how much of that I remember other than the coccyx, which I only remember because…”

“It’s an interesting word with an interesting spelling, I remember,” he says, grinning into her hair. He slows his hand that’s still rubbing her back, bringing it up to cup her neck and rub circles into her nape with his thumb. “We hadn’t really decided on a reward or punishment for this little pop quiz though.”

“Well someone was too excited to put his mouth everywhere on my body,” Anne retorts, her giggle coming out just a little stronger. 

“I can’t dispute that at all, so…”

She laughs again, pulling back to look at him. She cups his face in her hands, and whispers, “No one’s ever made me…the way you look at me and the way you touch me…no one’s ever made me feel so…”

He cups one of her hands that’s still on his cheek, saying, “So…?”

Her fathomless blue-grey eyes are wide, her gaze on him so _tender_. “I feel so utterly… _seen_ , so understood. So very…loved.” 

“You are,” he says, immediately and with no hesitation, even though his voice cracks with emotion. “You are so incredibly _adored_ by me, Anne-girl. I love you so much it just…bursts out of me, all the time.”

She smiles, her thumb stroking his cheek still as she says, “You always have been so very generous with your heart.” She sighs, leaning her forehead on his. “My body feels entirely too small to contain all the love I have for you, Gil.”

He pulls her in for a kiss, slow and soft, his forehead resting on her collarbone when their lips part. 

“We should study,” she murmurs into his curls. “It’s almost 10 and you look like you have a lot to cover.”

“Just another minute, Anne-girl,” he says, kissing her neck and tightening his arms around her. “One more read through of my notes should do it for me.”

Anne gives him three more minutes, stroking his hair and curling them around her fingers as he rests in her arms. Kissing his temple, she pulls herself away even as he protests wordlessly, going back to her books and her notes. He pretends to grumpily turn back to his own studying, making her chuckle softly to herself.

It’s another hour and twenty minutes before she interrupts him again. He’s so absorbed in quizzing himself that he doesn’t realise she’s cleared the coffee table of all her study materials until she hugs him from behind, kissing the back of his neck.

“Oh,” he says, surprised as he finally notices that she’s cleared up her things. “Are you heading to bed?”

“I might be up late tomorrow studying for the test,” she explains, winding her arms around his torso as she kneels behind him. “So I thought I’d try to get to bed before midnight _today_ , at least. Do you still have a lot to cover?”

“Another chapter and a half,” he says, stifling a yawn as he leans back into her warmth. “Maybe another two hours or so…”

He closes his eyes, resting his cheek against her chest for a moment. She snuggles into him obligingly, and he smiles. 

“Don’t stay up too late,” she says. “We wouldn’t want you falling asleep in the middle of the test.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, letting out a contented sigh as she kisses his forehead. 

“You alright?” she asks, squeezing him a little. “Not too tired?”

“Well I’m fantastic right _now_ ,” he teases. “Feel free to stay here and hold me as I study.”

Anne laughs as she untangles herself from him. “I know I said I love you, but that may be asking too much, baby.”

He pulls her back, his binder with his notes in it falling from his lap as she squeals and laughs, fighting his hold. She stops squirming when she’s lying across his lap, and he bends down to kiss her. She moans softly as he squeezes her hip, and her thumb trailing down his throat makes him groan. 

He strokes her soft, freckle covered cheek as he says, “You know…it sounds really nice when you call me baby.” She flushes the loveliest shade of pink, and he continues, “Why don’t you call me that more often?”

She smiles, but avoids his eye, staring at his cheek instead as she traces it with her fingers. “Well, I didn’t know if you liked it. I mean you don’t really have an endearment for me other than Anne-girl so I didn’t know if you were into it. I figured I’d…ease into it.”

“I kinda love it,” he says, squeezing her hip again. “So you don’t have to worry about easing me into it. Did you want an endearment from me, other than Anne-girl?”

“I _like_ Anne-girl,” she says, winding a curl at his temple around her finger. “But I wouldn’t mind a couple more.”

“A couple? Someone’s getting greedy.”

Anne laughs. “Okay get back to studying, Dr. Blythe. We can’t have you failing because we were discussing our preferred terms of endearment.”

He kisses her softly before she slides off his lap. Kissing him again, she whispers her “Good night, baby,” into his cheek. 

“Good night, Anne-girl. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

It’s just past 1 in the morning when Gilbert decides that he’s done all that he can for his test. He quickly clears up his notes and books, deciding that he wouldn’t mind a nice, hot shower before bed. 

Anne’s room is quiet and softly lit with moonlight, and she’s fast asleep, tucked in under the covers. She looks adorable, her face half covered by her fist pushing into her cheek. Gilbert smiles at the sight.

He goes into her bathroom and realises that she’s put out a new toothbrush, still in its plastic wrapping, for him on the counter. His smile and the leaping sensation in his chest can only be described as giddiness, and if he wasn’t so in love with Anne Shirley-Cuthbert he’d feel embarrassed that such a simple gesture has brought him to such a state. 

The woman he loves wants a part of him in her space, and even if it’s something as simple as his own toothbrush in her bathroom, it’s one less thing to pack when he comes over, and her thoughtfulness makes him want to rush outside and kiss her senseless. 

His shower helps him wind down, the hot water doing wonders for his muscles, especially after sitting so still for hours while he studied. He hurriedly dries himself and changes into some sweatpants, eager to get to bed. 

Anne is still fast asleep when he gets into bed, but she starts to stir, murmuring in her sleep when he jostles her slightly. He shushes her as he slots himself behind her, putting his arm around her waist as he says, soft and contrite, “Go to sleep, Anne-girl. It’s just me.”

She continues to move around in her sleep, but eventually settles, scooting backwards towards him and humming her approval as he pulls her close. He presses his nose into her hair, inhaling its lovely flowery smell that tugs him into a deep sleep.

He wakes up to soft lips on his throat, trailing gentle kisses at random up and down his neck. He breathes deeply, enjoying the sensation as he clears the early morning fog from his brain. With Anne in his arms, with her mouth on him setting off all kinds of signals in his body, he groans at how _amazing_ it is to be woken up this way. He’s half hard and pressed into her, her body moving against his slowly as she trails her mouth down to his chest. 

He indulges in a fantasy for a moment, where he’d let his hand slip into her shorts to cup her ass, pressing her close to him as he kisses her. Where he’d whisper good morning against her lips as her hands cup him through his sweats, easing them off his hips as they move together, until he’s kicking them off, naked and aching for her. He imagines his hand sliding past her ass to find her core, already wet and ready for him. He imagines how readily she'd take her shorts off, and how her hands would reach for his cock, slowly stroking him as he slips his fingers inside her, their rhythms slowly synchronising as they touch each other. She’d gasp and whine against his lips, she’d breathe his name as his thumb rubbed against her clit. He’d plead with her, wanting to be inside her, and her lips would stretch into a smirk as she guides him inside her right then, both of them still lying on their sides, her eyes fixed on him. Her mouth would drop as he fills her slowly, as his own ecstasy of her tight warmth engulfs him. He imagines the sounds she’d make as he moves inside her lazily, the early morning surrounding them as they rock together, letting their pleasure build until they both explode with its all-encompassing force, panting together as they recover. 

‘Soon,' he promises himself as he focuses on Anne’s mouth kissing her way up to his shoulders, her hand resting on his stomach, feeling the lines of his not-quite-abs. The fantasy would suffice for now, he decides. 

“Good morning,” he says, smiling as he pulls her close. 

“It’s time for you to wake up, if you want to have breakfast before class,” she says, smiling into his neck. “Your alarm’s about to go off.”

“Can I always wake up like this?” He asks, kissing her head and tugging her closer so she’s pinned against his front. 

“We can discuss it,” she quips, reaching up for a kiss that he gladly provides. “But first, I have a question.”

“Mmm, kiss me first.”

She giggles, saying, “How about we both take a breath mint first?”

He groans as she pulls herself out of his embrace to reach for the mints on her bedside table. “What, you just had those waiting there ready for morning breath situations?”

He lets her stuff a mint into his mouth and chews on it impatiently. Still chewing, he says, “Can I kiss you _now_?”

And his alarm rings. 

He groans as he slams on the snooze button on his phone. Turning back to find her laughing at him, he kisses her fiercely, her laughter quickly turning into an appreciative moan. She tastes of mint, making him smile. She smiles too, and his thumb dips into her dimple as they kiss. 

“You had a question?” he reminds her, his lips barely moving away from hers.

Her smile is wide as she pinches his chest, saying, “So I understand how all of _this_ usually stays, well _this_ , when you’re helping to maintain an orchard and a farm.”

“ _This_?” he asks, furrowing his brow.

Her hands travel down to his stomach, her thumb stroking gently. “ _This_ ,” she clarifies. “You are a nerd who never goes to the gym, as far as I know. I mean, they’re not abs or anything, but I still see…there are lines on your stomach, dude.”

He laughs. “I really don’t know if you’re trying to insult or compliment me.”

“ _Baby_ ,” she whines. “Come on, satisfy my curiosity. How does your body look like this when you spend all your time studying?”

He flushes a little as he laughs. “I do crunches between chapters sometimes when I study at home. And push ups.”

“ _Sometimes_?” she says doubtfully, eyeing his pecs and his flat stomach. “ _Sometime_ crunches and push ups does not this body make, Gilbert Blythe.”

“Maybe every other day. It helps with my focus. And my sleep.”

Anne looks scandalised. “You’ve been _exercising_ behind my back?” she exclaims. “Were you doing push ups last night? Without letting me know so I could watch? How dare you?”

He bursts out laughing. “No push ups last night, no. I’ll call you over the next time I exercise okay? You can watch to your heart’s content, you weirdo.”

“Well _forgive me_ for being attracted to my boyfriend,” Anne retorts, grinning as she smooths her hand down his torso, making him sigh at her touch. “Will you do it with your shirt off?”

“We could negotiate for shirtless push ups, sure,” he murmurs, stilling her hand that’s tracing circles into his lower stomach, that’s awakening all kinds of _need_ inside him. “What would I get in return, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert?”

“Well, all the things that I’d happily give you, you insist on waiting a while to do,” she says slyly, making him groan into her neck, thinking of his fantasy that he’d dreamed of when he woke up. 

“How about a second date?” he asks, his voice muffled into the skin of her neck and his ears feeling a little hot. “After midterms?”

“Midterms end next Tuesday though, for me. Couldn’t we at least take a _tiny_ break from studying Friday night? Take a few hours to go…get dinner maybe?” She pulls away from him to look him in the eye. “I promise we’ll study all weekend to make up for it.”

“You had me at Friday night,” he says, grinning. “But you’re letting me cook you dinner on Tuesday too.”

She grimaces a little, making him think she’s been listening to Bash’s stories about his kitchen disasters. 

“My cooking is not as bad as Bash makes it out to be!” he exclaims, his alarm blaring as if to protest on Bash’s behalf. Hitting snooze, he turns back to see her laughing and continues, “Seriously, Bash is used to _Mary’s_ cooking. Obviously mine is horrible relative to Mary’s but that’s a totally unfair comparison because that woman should be a professional chef.”

“Okay, okay,” Anne says, still laughing. “I didn’t even say anything!”

“You made a face!” he says, pulling her close and tickling her sides, making her scream with laughter. “You’re siding with Bash even when he’s not here to shit talk me!”

“I didn’t say that!” she screams, laughing and kicking. “Baby, stop!”

“What’s the magic word?” he says, pinning her down and continuing to tickle her. “Come on, Anne, don’t you want me to stop?”

She screams even louder, trying to kick him off her. “Okay, okay, please! Please stop!”

He grins. “Please stop _what_ , Anne-girl?” 

Tears of laughter are pooling in her eyes as she continues to wriggle and squirm. “Gil! I swear to God!”

He stops tickling her, kissing her tears off her cheeks as she pinches his chest; payback for her tickle torment. 

“Sadist,” she accuses, panting into her pillow as she recovers. 

“I love you too, pretty girl,” he says, leaning in for a kiss. 

“Nope,” she says, pushing his face away and crawling out from under him. “I’ll have you know tickling was a form of torture, once upon a time. And people who _torture_ me don’t get to kiss me!”

She swats at his ass as he groans, and flounces out to the kitchen. 

“Get out of bed, Gil!” she yells from the kitchen as his alarm starts blaring again, making him groan into his pillow. 

When he comes out of her room, freshly showered and ready for class, she’s already put coffee in his travel mug next to his bag, and is leisurely eating a granola bar as she scrolls through her phone. 

“You are an angel, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert,” he says, kissing the side of her head as he makes himself some toast to eat in his car. “Thank you.”

He makes quick work of the toast and tells Anne he’ll see her later, if she wants company as she studies. He stuffs his toast in his mouth as he grabs his things, his priorities clear as he holds all the rest of his things in one hand and only his precious travel mug in the other.

“Hey Gil?” he hears Anne call as he’s about to go out the front door.

“Hnng?” he asks through the toast in his mouth, whirling around to see her walking to him. 

She plucks the toast out of his mouth to kiss him and say “You’ll do great, baby. I’ll see you later.” 

And then she replaces the toast in his mouth and tells him to get lost when he makes a noise of protest.

Gilbert sighs tiredly as he stands in line at Anne’s favourite cafe, but still smiles at the sight of a pot of wildflowers, remembering the sight of Anne with a bright blue wildflower in her hair. He breathes in the smell of fruity teas and chocolatey coffee as he stares at the menu, deciding on an orange-flavoured tea for himself. He quickly takes his phone out as he gets closer to the counter and texts Anne.

**Do you want your favourite minty chamomile for studying?**

**I promise I’ll just drop it off and leave, I won’t distract you** 😜

_Don’t let it get to your head or anything, but I freaking love you Gilbert Blythe._

**Is that a yes?**

_That’s a yes._

_Thank you_ ❤️

**I love you too** ❤️

He had just seen her that morning, but he’s still excited to see her later, even if it’ll just be for a minute or two. He smiles to himself, wondering if he’ll always be this pathetic for her, and thinking he probably will be. 

“Gilbert?” he hears from somewhere behind him. 

Turning around, he sees a tired-looking Josie Pye walking into the cafe, and gestures for her to come stand in line with him.

“Midterms?” she asks, probably at the exhaustion visible on his face.

“Midterms,” he confirms. “How are yours going?”

“I had a paper today and another one tomorrow,” she replies, looking like she’s fading fast. “No rest for the weary.”

“No shit,” he agrees, sighing. “Are you getting your supply of coffee for tonight?”

“Yeah. I stupidly left half of my syllabus almost _untouched_ , so it’s probably going to be a mostly sleepless night.”

“Yikes,” he says sympathetically. “That sucks. Do you have another paper the day after, on Friday?”

“Thankfully, no. So I have all weekend to procrastinate for Monday’s paper.”

Gilbert laughs as they reach the front of the line. They both order, and Josie’s smile becomes sly as he orders for himself and Anne. 

“You usually order two drinks for yourself, Romeo?” she asks, nudging him. 

“Shut it, Pye, or I won’t offer you a ride home,” he retorts, nudging her right back. 

“Let me have my fun, Blythe,” she says, laughing. “It’s not often two oblivious nerds get together after years and years of stupid, longing gazes while the rest of us had to suffer with all of your _oblivious_ …"

“Okay, okay, okay,” he says, laughing with her. “But let’s not forget, I partially blame you, Miss Ruby-has-dibs.”

Her eyes widen comically. “Ah. I had forgotten about that.”

“Oh, how _convenient_ ,” he teases. “In the haze of your righteous anger about Anne and I being _oblivious nerds_ with our _stupid longing gazes_ …”

“Okay, okay,” she says, still laughing. “You’re an asshole, Blythe.”

He picks up three drinks in their little carrier, saying, “Yeah, yeah. Do you want a ride home, or not?”

They’ve just walked outside, Josie ribbing Gilbert about how he’s so smitten he just wants to drop Anne her stress drink when she’s having exams, when she stops mid-sentence and skitters to a stop. It’s only for a second, and she then drops her gaze and starts walking really fast, almost running, to his car. Gilbert is a little puzzled, letting her get ahead without him while he looks around to see what might have caused the sudden change. 

And spots Billy Andrews walking down the street like he owns the fucking sidewalk. 

Gilbert tenses, rushing after Josie when he notices that Billy has spotted her. He quickly unlocks his car from across the street, and Josie immediately gets inside and closes the door behind her. When Billy speeds up towards her, Gilbert quickly locks the car again so he won’t be able to get to her. 

“Get the hell away from her, Billy!” Gilbert yells, as Billy attempts to cross the street towards the car. 

“This is none of your business, bud,” Billy says, an eerie calm in his demeanour as he walks towards the car. “Hey, Josie,” he says, an attempt at softness as he taps at her window. “Come on, open up, honey.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Gilbert mutters under his breath as he stands there, unsure about what to do. He continues, much louder, “I am not your bud, and get away from her or I will fucking call the cops, Billy.”

Josie is just sitting in the car, quiet and still, and looking down at her phone as Billy continues to tap on her window, getting increasingly agitated. 

“Come on, Josie. Baby, just let me explain. You know this has all been a stupid mistake, right?”

Gilbert takes his phone out of his pocket as he approaches Billy. “Last fucking chance, Billy. I’m calling the cops right now if you don’t back off.”

“I said stay out of this, Blythe!” Billy roars, making Josie hunch over in her seat. Her shoulders are starting to shake, and Gilbert worries that she might have an anxiety attack with no one in the car to soothe her. 

He’s just starting to dial 911 when he hears a gruff voice behind him say, “Is there a problem here?”

Gilbert turns around to see two guys that look vaguely familiar. They’re both tall and broad, likely on the football team, and he thinks they might be members of the frat house where Josie had been assaulted.

Billy’s frat brothers. Fuck.

‘I can’t take three guys. I can’t even take these two,’ Gilbert thinks, Billy’s increasingly agitated attempts to get Josie to talk to him still echoing behind him.

“Guys,” Gilbert says warily. “I need to get Billy away from this girl, okay? I don’t know if you were there when it happened, but I‘m sure you guys know what he tried to do to her. He’s refusing to leave right now when she obviously doesn’t want to see him and he’s getting aggressive so I’m about to call the cops. Is that gonna be a problem?”

The two guys look at each other and then back at Gilbert. He tenses when they both step forward, his grip on his phone becoming tighter. 

And then to his utter shock and surprise, the taller one, a brown-haired _giant_ of a man, looks him in the eye and asks, “You need help, man?”

Gilbert is pretty sure his entire body practically collapses with relief, never having gone from ‘I’m about to get my ass kicked’ to ‘oh thank God not all frat boys are evil’.

“I’ll call the police and you guys can try talking him away from her?” Gilbert suggests. 

“We’re on it,” the shorter, blue-eyed one says. “Go ahead and make the call.”

The two guys hurry towards Billy, and Josie’s face explodes with fear at the sight of them, probably recognising them as Billy’s friends. She looks towards Gilbert frantically, and he holds up his phone, showing her that he’s already connected to 911, mouthing to her that the guys are there to help. 

He doesn’t hear what the taller of the two says to Billy, but Josie’s face immediately softens with relief. The guy puts himself between Billy and Josie, and Gilbert quickly rattles off details to the police dispatcher, asking them to hurry before he rushes towards Josie.

He quickly gets into his car, locking it once he’s inside, and Josie hugs him tightly. He rubs her back soothingly as he watches their frat boy saviours hustle Billy at least one car away from them. 

“Don’t worry, okay? The police are on the way,” he says, keeping a wary eye on Billy as Josie pulls away. 

“The cops? Why would you call the cops?” Josie asks, still frantic.

He forces a chuckle. “Not that it’s not very tempting to punch Billy in the face, but this is kinda safer, don’t you think?”

Josie clutches at his jacket. “But…but what do I tell them when they ask why he’s here harassing me?”

Before he can answer her, he sees red and blue strobe lights flash, and the two not-evil frat boys flag down the police car, pointing at Billy, who’s still trying to get to Josie. 

“One thing at a time, okay Josie?” Gilbert says as reassuringly as he can. “We’ll deal with it together; I’m right here.”

“You’ll stay with me when I talk to them?” She asks, her voice small.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course I will. I’m not going anywhere.”

Gilbert is exhausted by the time he gets to Anne’s almost fifty minutes later. Him and Josie trudge tiredly towards Josie’s door, the long conversation with the cops having lasted longer than they had expected, but also having gone really well.

“I guess grounds for a restraining order is _something_ , right?” Josie asks as she searches her bag for her keys.

“Better than nothing,” Gilbert replies. “But I’m still holding out hope that he gets into way worse trouble than that. You gonna call that lawyer they mentioned?”

“Probably,” she says, sighing. “Dealing with all of that drama is definitely not something I want to be doing on the regular, so if this lawyer is as good as they say then…yeah. I’m surprised about those guys from the frat who actually came to help out. I thought they would have banded together with Billy and they would do the whole TV thing where they accuse me of being a slut and a liar.”

“I was surprised too,” he exclaims softly. “I thought they were gonna kick my ass so I wouldn’t call the cops. I got to talk to them a little bit after. Apparently Billy’s been kicked out of the frat, and even his dad’s influence couldn’t convince the other frat alumni to let him back in. They’re taking it super seriously, Jose. Someone from the administration came in to talk to the entire house about it, and even though there were the few assholes who tried to defend Billy, most of them were on your side. The guy with the dark hair, his name’s Fred by the way, he said there’s no way you could twist a story with a girl running away screaming with her dress torn, no way to make that look like consent.”

Josie gets her front door open, and Tillie immediately appears to pull her into a hug. 

“Are you okay?” Tillie asks, full of concern as she releases her. Josie nods and lays her head on Tillie’s shoulder.

“Oh god, Gilbert, thank goodness you were there,” Tillie continues, putting her arm around Josie. “Thanks for texting me about what happened, by the way.”

“No problem,” Gilbert says, smiling tiredly. “You gonna be alright, Jose?”

“Well, I’m gonna be a lot better than alright knowing that people actually believe my version about what happened rather than Billy’s,” Josie replies, a small smile appearing on her face. “Who knew there were frat boys who weren’t assholes?”

“Who knew?” Gilbert agrees, grinning. “You guys call me if you need anything, okay? And call that lawyer, Jose.”

“I might…call Anne too,” she says hesitantly. “About that article, I mean.”

Gilbert’s grin widens. “She’ll be so happy to hear that. You want me to tell her?”

“Saves me the trouble of texting her and dealing with her squealing,” Josie says, and Tillie shoves her good-naturedly. 

In a move that really surprises him, Josie hugs Gilbert tightly for a moment. “Thanks, Gilbert,” she says as she lets him go and moves to stand next to Tillie. “Really. I’m glad you were there.”

“I’m glad I could help.” He smiles as he walks away. “Night, lovely ladies.”

He hears Tillie joke that if Josie was trying to steal Gilbert away from Anne that it was the biggest lost cause there ever was, and it makes him chuckle to himself as he hears Josie laugh. 

He almost runs to Anne’s door, wanting nothing more than to just see her face for a few minutes. He knocks on her door and she answers almost immediately, taking one look at his face and ushering him in worriedly.

“Is Josie okay?” she asks, pulling him into her arms. He tucks his face into her hair and breathes her in, feeling some of his nerves quickly settle. “And are _you_ okay? I was expecting you to get here a lot sooner than this.”

“Our conversation with the cops ran a little long,” he explains, kissing her head gently. “Josie’s fine, and Tillie’s home with her so she said she didn’t need me to stay or anything.”

Anne pulls away and takes the drink carrier he’s still holding into the kitchen, still holding onto his hand. She put it down on the counter, saying, “And you?”

“I’m just tired,” he reassures her. “But otherwise fine.”

“You sure?” she asks, cupping his face and looking up at him, still a little concerned. 

He kisses her, brief but soft. “I’m fine, I promise.”

He pulls her into him, and she willingly comes, winding her arms tightly around his waist. He chuckles at the tightness of her hold, and cuddles her into his chest, feeling so much calmer now that he’s with her.

“This is just what I needed,” he murmurs softly into her hair. “I’m sorry, I know I said I’d just drop off your drink and leave.”

“That was before Billy Andrews disrupted your night!” Anne protests into his chest. “As if I would have just let you leave without at least _some_ comfort.”

He smiles dopily, lifting her chin to kiss her again, and her eyelashes flutter prettily as they part. 

“Do you want to stay for a little while?” At him opening his mouth to protest, she quickly interrupts, “Just until I finish my drink, at least? I just want to sit with you for a bit.”

He nods, and she quickly kisses him before putting both their teas into the microwave to warm. He sits down on one of the high chairs at her counter, letting her tousle his hair gently as they wait. He rests his forehead on hers as he sighs contentedly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks softly, kissing his cheek. “Or would you prefer not to?”

“I’ll just give you the gist of it because I don’t want you to worry, okay?” At her nod, Gilbert continues, “Basically Billy came up to Josie, who had thankfully run into my car already. So the doors were locked but he was trying to get her to listen to him, saying he wanted to explain. I tried to tell him to get away from her but he got agitated, so I called the cops. These two guys from his frat house were passing by, so they helped get him away from the car while I called 911.”

“And the police got there fast?”

“Yeah, their response time was amazing, and the frat guys, Fred and Henry, helped with that too. Billy was still shoving them and yelling so the cops took over from there. They talked to Josie for a long time about the assault too, and about the steps she could take. Could be anything from a restraining order to a legal suit to a civil suit. And one of the officers said he knew a lawyer who could help, and gave Josie the details.”

“That sounds…really positive, Gil,” Anne says, untangling from his arms to get their warmed drinks. “Did Billy get arrested?”

“They let him off with a warning because Josie hasn’t pressed charges, but they talked to her about going into the station to do that. She said she’ll think about it, and call that lawyer to talk.”

Anne blows out a long breath. “When you mentioned frat boys I thought they were going to cause trouble.”

“Me too,” he replies, taking a sip of his tea. “Thankfully, this is real life and not TV and they both had a fucking conscience about what Billy did to Jose.”

“Shit,” Anne mutters. “I would not have slept easy if you had gotten in the middle of a _thing_ with Billy and two other guys like him.”

He gets up and stands behind Anne’s high chair, putting his arms around her and kissing the top of her head. “You’re sweet to worry. I promise they were actually pretty decent, from what I can tell.”

Anne lets out a soft ‘mmm’ as she leans into him. “How was your midterm today?”

“It was pretty great, actually. My tea was me rewarding myself.”

She laughs softly. “And my tea?”

“Was just because I adore you,” he finishes, smirking. 

“I should get back to studying,” Anne says reluctantly, not letting him let go of her. “Do you wanna stay tonight?”

Gilbert rocks them back and forth as he holds her. “Do you want me to?”

“I always want you to. But you look very tired, and you didn’t bring a change of clothes. So if you just want to head home and go to bed, I completely understand.”

“I _am_ pretty tired,” he admits reluctantly. “I don’t think I’d be able to stay awake long enough to pack a bag and get back here.”

Anne turns around to kiss him slowly, letting it deepen, letting their tongues touch and tangle. She moans as he tugs at her bottom lip with his teeth, and they both grin as their lips part.

“Then you go home and you go to bed, okay?” she says, her voice full of tenderness and warmth. “I’ll text you after I’m done with my paper tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a plan. Also, Josie said she might call you about that article. She sounded like she hadn’t fully decided, but…it sounded promising.”

Anne’s face brightens. “Really? Well…I should talk to Miss Stacy about it after midterms for sure then. And hey, we could include those frat guys in the article too, if they’d be willing.”

Gilbert’s smile widens at her enthusiasm, getting up to leave and holding her hand as he walks to the door. “Will you let me know if you need my help with anything?”

“I might,” she says, smiling cheekily. “Or I might not.”

Gilbert chuckles as they linger at her front door, kissing her lovely, still glittering face. “I love you, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert.”

“I love you too, Gilbert Blythe,” she says, winding her arms around his neck as she kisses him again. “Good night. And text me when you’re safely in bed. No shirtless push-ups tonight!”

He laughs, kissing her cheek. “I’ll text you. Good night, Anne-girl.”

As he walks away smiling, he wonders at the changing world and the amazing red-headed centre of his own world. And even though his bed feels so much emptier without her there, he falls asleep with a smile on his face, allowing himself a moment of thankfulness for not-evil frat boys. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo.....
> 
> Can you guys tell that I have no sympathy whatsoever for Billy Andrews? Yes you can? Totally and absolutely clearly? Great! 😜
> 
> Thank you all so much for all the wonderful comments you've been leaving! I appreciate it so much, and you've all been so unbelievably sweet and kind. It really encourages me to keep writing, and some of you give me some really good insight into my own story which I LOVE. 
> 
> I hope you're all keeping well. I'm still in quarantine over here, but the Movement Control Order is easing slowly, which is great but also terrifying. 
> 
> Anyway have a great Sunday and a fantastic week ahead! Sending you all love and hugs! ❤️


	9. A nice night for a walk (among other things)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne and Gilbert go on a date and have a VERY nice night 😏

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *jumps out from a bush*
> 
> Surprise!! I'm alive and writing and here's a longer than usual chapter!!
> 
> Where the hell have I been, you ask?
> 
> *runs back into the bush*

_Hey baby_ ❤️

_What time am I seeing you later?_

**I just got home. I know it’s a little early, but I could get ready right now and hang out til it’s time to head to the restaurant?**

_If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you miss me, Gilbert Blythe._

**I hope you don’t know any better then, because I do miss you** 😔

🥺🥺

_You’re really frickin cute, you know that?_

_And I suppose I miss you too._

**Am I cute enough to be allowed over before our date?**

😂 _Yes, you’re cute enough to be allowed over. Di and Cole are here too, so no funny business, Blythe._

**You wound me, Anne-girl.**

**I only ever take part in enthusiastically sanctioned funny business, I assure you.**

_Dork._

_I’ll see you soon_ 😘

😘

Gilbert grins when he sees a grumpy-looking Cole open Anne’s door at his knock.

“What’s gotten your smile upside down, MacKenzie?” he teases, ruffling Cole’s hair even thought Cole is much taller. “Did Mikael with a K cut his hair while you were enjoying it long?”

“Okay, you’re really pushing it, Blythe,” Cole warns, leading him to Anne’s room. “First you interrupt my very nice nap, and now you’re bringing up Mikael with a K, right after I found out he’s straight? Not cool! Take your shirt off right now and apologise!”

Gilbert laughs as they both go into Anne’s room and Cole flops down onto Anne’s bed to continue his nap. Diana sits on the bed, holding a curling iron in Anne’s hair while Anne sits on the floor doing her makeup.

“I would turn my head to say hi,” Anne says, smiling at him through her makeup mirror as he puts his things down. “But Diana’s yelled at me three times already for moving around, so I’m not willing to risk it.”

Gilbert chuckles, as he walks over to her, saying,“Well I’m not risking her wrath either, so sit still.”

Leaning down to kiss her softly, he lingers there, tasting her perfectly soft lips. “Hi,” he says, smiling.

Anne’s grin is wide, and she pulls him in for another kiss. He intends for it to be short and chaste, but she sighs happily against his mouth and slips her hand around his neck, pulling him closer. Smiling against her lips, he kisses her again, only to get his hand slapped away when he instinctively runs his fingers through her hair.

Startled, and with his hand stinging a little, he stops kissing Anne to find a glaring Diana’s wrath directed at him, brandishing the curling iron like a weapon.

“I have spent the past twenty minutes doing her hair!” Di growls. “Ruin my hard work _later_ when I’m not there to witness it.”

Anne giggles at his exaggerated wounded expression, which makes Diana’s mouth twitch as she tries not to smile.

“Yes ma’am, Miss Barry,” Gilbert says, kissing Anne on the cheek and grinning as he shakes out his stinging hand. “I am deeply sorry for causing any damage to your hard work, which of course, looks impeccable.”

He collapses into Anne’s bed next to Cole, who reaches out blindly to pat him on the chest before going back to his nap. Gilbert chuckles and pats Cole on the head in return, and Cole happily burrows into a pillow at the show of affection.

He doesn’t really intend to fall asleep, but Diana and Anne’s familiar chatter slowly lulls him into relaxing, and the next thing he knows, he’s waking up to see Cole getting off the bed, pocketing his phone and wallet. Cole smiles when he sees Gilbert stretch and groan happily.

Cole pats him on the head lightly, saying, “Have fun on your date, Gilly boy. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That doesn’t…clarify much for me,” Gilbert admits, laughing. “What does a MacKenzie-approved date look like, exactly?”

“I don’t think either of us want to know,” Anne says laughingly as she walks out of the bathroom, putting on her earrings.

She looks so beautiful that she steals the very air from his lungs, which he happily surrenders. He sits up so he can properly appreciate the sight of her in her flowy, navy blue dress, her hair cascading in careless curls down her back. As she tries to put on her shoes standing up, hanging on to her dresser with one hand, her hair falls off one freckled shoulder to reveal two barely-there, flimsy strings, tied in a careless bow that keeps her dress anchored to her. His eyes wander her body, her long legs left bare by the short dress, her back exposed by the slight dip in the flowy material, imagining the dress sliding off her body with one simple tug on those flimsy, barely-there strings.

“I don’t know, Anne,” Cole says, chuckling at the look on Gilbert’s face. “I think Gilly boy might make good use of the information.”

“Bye, Cole,” Gilbert says, almost breathless as he gets off the bed and walks towards Anne. “I’ll have to use my imagination about a MacKenzie-approved date for now, but I’m looking forward to the conversation where you elaborate on that.”

Cole laughs, absolutely tickled, saying, “Gilbert Blythe, you sweet-talker. That’s the nicest rephrasing of ‘Get lost’ I’ve ever heard.” Anne and Gilbert both laugh as Gilbert hugs her from behind and kisses her temple. “Play nice, lovebirds.”

“Are they already being disgusting?” Diana calls from the living room. “I’m sure you’d love to stay and watch, but we gotta go, Cole! The movie starts in half an hour and you always want popcorn.”

Cole hurriedly hugs them both, still grinning, and runs out after Diana.

“Love you both!” Anne calls, and they hear Cole and Diana call back various endearments and variations of ‘see you later’ as they let themselves out. The front door closes behind them, and Anne turns around in his arms to face him.

“Your bedhead is adorable,” she says, smiling as she fluffs his hair even more. “Have I ever told you that?”

“We absolutely cannot be talking about how I look when you’re looking this amazing, Anne-girl,” he says, his voice lower as he lets his eyes wander down to her lips, then back to her eyes. He usually has no idea how to appreciate makeup, but the way Anne has lightly outlined her eyes makes them look more blue than grey and he is utterly fascinated by it. He happily realises that her makeup is light enough that they don’t cover her freckles, and he presses a light kiss to his favourite cluster of seven particularly dark freckles on her nose. She immediately reaches up to her tiptoes to press her lips to his and he groans at her insistent kiss, at the touch of her tongue to his. He tightens his hold around her waist, pulling her closer, and she sighs as their chests press together. His hand wanders up her back to her neck, and he vaguely registers that she’s not wearing a bra.

“Fuck,” he mutters as she presses light kisses to his jaw and down his neck. “You’re so utterly bewitching, baby.”

She bites lightly at his pulse point, and he sighs at the heavenly feeling, thoroughly enjoying her lips on his skin.

“How much time do we have before we have to be at the restaurant?” she asks, pulling his shirt aside slightly to nip at his shoulder.

Gilbert reluctantly checks the time and says, “Fifteen minutes. Shit.”

“Mmm,” she hums, as she licks his neck. “Too bad.”

He laughs. “You’re a menace.” Hearing her giggle into his neck, he pulls away so he can cup her face gently. “But really, you look so beautiful. I’m going to be completely distracted by this dress all night.”

She looks down at her dress, and grins at him smugly. “This old thing?” she asks, all faux innocence. “But what on earth could be so distracting about it, Mr. Blythe?”

Her eyes darken as he gets closer, pure lust coursing through his veins as he rumbles, right into her ear, “All I’m going to be thinking about is taking it off once we get home, baby.” He traces the strings holding the dress together lightly, continuing, “I’m going to be staring at this all night, thinking about how one tug on this is all it would take to get you practically naked. How the hell am I supposed to focus on anything else, huh?”

She gasps as he kisses her ear, nibbling on it lightly as her hands clutch at his shirt. Her exhale is shaky as he grabs a handful of her ass, squeezing it lightly.

“Gil,” she breathes, the sound so inviting, so sensual, he wishes he could throw her onto the bed and have his way with her.

Groaning, he pulls away from her, and immediately feels a little bereft. She almost falls forward towards him, and he grabs her elbows to steady her.

“Vixen,” he accuses, grinning.

“Tall, dark and handsome,” she counters, slapping him on the stomach and grabbing her bag.

“You sure you’ll be warm enough?” he asks as she puts a shawl into her bag. Before she can answer him, he continues, “I’ll bring my jacket and you can have it if you get cold.”

She smiles, small and fond. “Thanks. Does my lipstick look okay or have you ruined it by being a fantastic kisser?”

He laughs and tells her it looks fine, and she still disbelievingly checks it in the mirror. After announcing that she needs to tell everyone how much this lipstick doesn’t smudge, she lets him drag her outside.

They end up walking to the restaurant, a tiny Italian place that Anne likes that’s a five-minute walk away. Gilbert’s almost glad they didn’t have to drive, knowing that he wouldn’t be strong enough to resist making out with Anne in the car, as amazing as she looks, and it would have probably made them late for their reservation.

Instead he listens to her rhapsodise about the gloriousness of the evening, and how the colours of the sunset makes the russet of the leaves shine even more brightly. He watches as the streetlights come on, highlighting the gold in her hair as she speaks, making her look like she’s glowing as she moves, animated but still holding on to his hand.

He never wants to look away from her.

He doesn’t say much, but Anne doesn’t seem to mind, talking about how her midterm had gone that day and the things she had gotten up to with Cole and Diana. He chuckles at her story about Cole seeing Mikael with a K with short hair for the first time and almost spitting out his coffee at the sight.

“I’m glad this is where we’re going,” Anne says when they reach the restaurant, tucking herself into his side as they wait for their table to be ready, looking around the bar area, dimly lit but comfortable, with its dark wood polished to a shine, and the restaurant area filled with cozy, high backed booths, giving each table a measure of privacy. “I’ve always wanted to come here with you.”

“Yeah?” he asks, feeling his ears burn as he flushes, filled with giddiness. “I didn’t know that. This seemed like such a ‘date night’ type of place, I figured I might have made you uncomfortable if I did bring you here just the two of us. You know…before.”

She hides her smile in his shoulder, and he kisses her temple. “i get what you mean about it being a date-night kind of place, but I never really came here with a partner or anything. I’d come here with Diana or Cole or Roy or Ruby and I’d see all these happy couples splitting their giant portions of pasta, and suddenly I’d just… _long_ for you. I know it makes no sense that people sharing their pasta makes me feel that way but…”

Gilbert squeezes her hand gently. “It makes plenty of sense, Anne-girl. If you only knew all the random things I see on the street that makes me long for _you_.” He nudges her, saying, “Especially in fall.”

“Yeah?” she asks, grinning widely. “I need the silliest, most random example you can think of _right now_!”

He pulls her into his chest and they sway as he thinks, furrowing his brow. She runs her thumbs over his eyebrows, one at a time, and he says, “Okay. Okay I just thought of one. I saw a dog running into a pile of leaves once, in fall of course, and I suddenly thought of that time we found that puppy lost in my barn, remember?”

She laughs, delighted. “And it turned out to be Josie’s sister’s puppy and Bash thought we had stolen him because Josie had been particularly mean to me that week.”

He laughs with her, saying, “Well Bash knew that I was incapable of saying no to you, _even_ back then and _even_ if innocent, adorable puppies were getting caught in the crossfire.”

“Is that so, Mr. Blythe?” She rests her chin on his chest, looking up at him with shining eyes. “Surely this was something you should have told me so I could have taken advantage of it?”

“Oh, please. You absolutely know how hard it is for me to say no to you,” he says, narrowing his eyes at her. “You once convinced me to teach you and Bash to skate when you had called me frustrating and aggravating ten minutes before that.”

She kisses his cheek and strokes his jaw fondly. “Well, we’re definitely even on that front, because if you have trouble saying no to me, you should know that I have trouble _not_ falling in love with you, even when I don’t want to.”

“Is that so, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert? I think sixteen year old me would have killed for that information.”

Someone calls out that their table is ready, and Gilbert kisses Anne quickly before taking her hand and following their waiter to a comfortable booth near the back. When the waiter leaves them menus and says he’ll be back to take their order, Anne presses herself into his side, the shoulder with the flimsy strings tantalisingly close to his mouth. She giggles when he brushes his lips against her shoulder and kisses the side of her neck.

“I never thought I’d be one of those couples who were all about disgusting PDA,” Anne whispers as he bites at her shoulder a little. “But this feels… _so_ nice.”

“I don’t know, Anne-girl,” he murmurs into her shoulder. “This place feels pretty private to me.”

She hums as he winds an arm around her, fingering the hem of her dress and tracing the line where it meets her thigh under the table.

“Gil,” she breathes, as he nuzzles into her neck. “What’s the male equivalent of a temptress?”

Gilbert breathes out a laugh against her shoulder. “Shit. Now I need to Google it.”

They both laugh as Anne watches him Google, and their waiter isn’t too bothered that they’ve barely touched their menus, offering to bring them a wine list so they can order their drinks too.

“I’m glad you’re not driving,” Anne says, finally perusing her menu. “I like tipsy you. Tipsy Gilbert gives the best hugs.”

Gilbert pinches her thigh. “I resent the implication that sober Gilbert gives subpar hugs,” he says, pouting exaggeratedly.

She kisses his jaw lightly. “Okay, allow me to rephrase, Mr. Blythe. At a time when I wasn’t ready to express how I felt about you, tipsy Gilbert was _way_ more affectionate than sober Gilbert and would spend hours cuddling with me if I let him. Sober Gilbert was way more cautious about touching me, even if I longed to be in his arms sometimes.”

He offers her his open arms, and she immediately cuddles into his chest contentedly. He kisses her forehead, and she smiles, saying, “Sober Gilbert gives great hugs too.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he says into her hair. “Have you decided what you want to eat?”

They call their waiter over, a nice guy whose name tag reads ‘Jerome’. When Gilbert, eyeing her from the corner of his eye, tells Jerome that they’re in the mood to split a giant helping of pasta, Jerome helpfully suggests their pasta amatriciana with a side of fried mozzarella sticks. Anne happily agrees, and also asks for two glasses of red wine.

Jerome brings them two generous glasses of wine, and Anne turns to Gilbert, asking, “What do you think? Are we getting drunk today?”

“No way,” Gilbert replies, clinking his glass against hers. “I have plans for you tonight that I will not be drunk for.”

“Oh? And what might these plans entail, Mr. Blythe?”

He looks at her, so beautiful in the dimmed lights, looking like she’s glowing. She raises an eyebrow as he keeps staring, and he smiles and kisses her cheek.

“I thought maybe…” he says, his voice low. “Maybe we could…get rid of our ‘pants stay on’ rule tonight?”

She freezes for a moment, and then asks, slow and careful, “As in…sex?”

“Maybe not like…all the way” His breath quickens when he sees her eyes drop to his lips as he licks them. “I thought maybe, if we’re talking baseball then…third base?”

Her eyes widen, and he rushes to add, “Only if you want to! I wouldn’t rush you into anything I just…god you’re so…and this dress is so…and I just really want to taste you, Anne-girl.”

“Fuck,” she says, gripping his thigh. “You tell me this _now_ when we have to sit through an entire meal before we can go home and have enough privacy to take our pants off? Why would you do that to us?”

Gilbert grins. “Well the bathroom’s available if we’re feeling particularly desperate. I’m sure Jerome would be happy watch the table for us if we tell him we’re in love and desperate to get to third base in a public place.”

Anne’s laugh is boisterous and filled with sunshine, and his heart swells with adoration.

“Is that a yes?” he asks, still feeling some trepidation as she turns her sunny smile to him. “It doesn’t have to be a yes if you don’t want it to be.”

“It would have been a yes even if you had asked me the day you told me you loved me. Don’t be an idiot,” she chides gently, nudging his head with hers.

“I can’t wait,” he says, his grin wide. “I’m going to insist we go through the torment of eating the food we already ordered though. Especially after you told me that very sweet story about why you wanted to come here with me.”

She smiles and kisses the corner of his mouth. “Stop being so sweet. It’s not helping at all with how much I want to tear your clothes off right now.”

“Imagine how I felt when you told me how you’ve always wanted to split pasta with me. It was deeply moving.”

“Stop making fun of me!” she protests laughingly, whacking him on the chest. “I was being romantic!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” he says, laughing as he catches her flailing arms. “You’re very romantic and I love you.” He presses a quick kiss to her cheek. “Now, will you please tell me what you’ve been writing lately? It’s been a while since I read an Anne Shirley-Cuthbert original.”

“Well,” she says, taking a quick sip of her wine. “Unsurprisingly my writing has been too full of fluff and lovesickness for me to be writing any kind of tragical romance. Today after my midterm was over I started jotting down some notes for a new story.”

“About…?”

She smiles shyly. “It’s about this girl who thinks she’s plain and unattractive who experiences the sad misfortune of falling in love with the handsomest boy in her university, or the world, as far as she’s concerned. And when she decides to be brave and tell him how she feels, she finally sees the way he’s been looking at her for so many years, and she finds out that he’s in love with her too. They’re both too happy for words and it almost seems…unreal.”

He’s sure his smile is dopey and utterly lovesick, but he can’t be too bothered by it when Anne is next to him, smiling like she’s as happy to be there with him as he is to be there with her.

“It _is_ real though,” he says, his voice low. “Right?”

“The realest thing she’s ever felt, I think,” she replies softly, her eyes shining as she caresses his jaw, her fingers lingering at his chin. “As much as she’s learned to love herself, I think it still amazes her to find that there are people who love her just as she is.”

“I would never use the word “just” to describe anything about you, Anne-girl,” he admits. “There’s always so much about you to love; I find something new to love about you all the time. And uh, it amazes me that you’re with me too, you know. In case that hasn’t come across in my constant awe of you.”

She laughs softly, leaning her head on his shoulder and dropping a kiss to his neck. “It’s too bad that you have your heart set on medicine, you know. I’m still convinced you have the soul of a poet.”

He chuckles as he feels her settle against him with a happy hum. “I think you’ll find that my poetry would become a little repetitive. They would all be about red hair and freckles and the biggest, loveliest blue-grey eyes, absolutely _sinful_ lips…” His voice drops as he murmurs into her ear, “The way you breathe out my name when I get my mouth on your perfect fucking breasts.”

“Pasta amatriciana to share!” Jerome calls cheerfully, setting a giant plate heaping with delicious-smelling spaghetti, and a smaller plate with their mozzarella sticks. “How’s your wine, are you enjoying it?”

“Yes, thank you Jerome, it’s absolutely wonderful,” Anne replies, smiling even though her face is still flushed from Gilbert’s whispered confession. “And I have a feeling we’re going to enjoy your pasta recommendation too. It smells heavenly!”

Jerome’s grin is is proud as he thanks them both, and when he leaves, Anne turns to Gilbert, saying, “That was unfortunate timing.”

They both laugh, and Gilbert tucks some of her hair behind her ear. His heart feels so full and so tender, vulnerable. Yet again, he finds that he doesn’t mind as long as Anne is right there with him, smiling happily as she leans into his touch.

“We’re finally here,” he says slowly, gazing at her in disbelief as she holds his hand to her cheek. “At a date night place I’ve been longing to take you to, about to split our pasta. I still can’t believe… I can’t believe you’re here. You’re _here,_ and you love me too. How is that possible? I never dared to…even _imagine_ …”

She kisses his palm, her eyes looking a little moist. “Me neither, Gil. I’m so glad we’re finally here too.”

“Come here,” he whispers, pulling her close.

She kisses him, so carefully, so tenderly, that he feels his entire body being enveloped with warmth that seems to emanate from all the places she’s touching him. She smiles against his lips as they part, her breath shaky as her hands slip down his neck to settle on his chest.

“I’m actually kind of cold now,” she whispers laughingly.

They laugh, and he passes her his jacket that she immediately bundles herself in. He smirks as she brings the collar up to her nose and inhales deeply. She colours immediately when she sees him watching.

“Shut up,” she mutters, grabbing a plate and filling it up with the amazing-smelling pasta. “So I think you smell nice. Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Too late, Anne-girl,” he says, chuckling as she sticks her tongue out at him. He kisses her head and grabs his own plate to fill with pasta.

Anne looks like she’s having a religious experience as she takes her first bite of pasta, and moans in appreciation.

“Oh my god, Gil,” she says, immediately twirling her fork to pick up a giant mouthful of spaghetti. “Freak out with me so I know this food is actually this good and isn’t just my imagination.”

“Freak out incoming,” Gilbert says, twirling his own fork in his spaghetti. He plops it in his mouth, saying, “Although I don’t know if _oh my god_.”

Anne grins as his eyes practically roll back as he chews, moaning at the taste. “Told you so,” she says cheekily. “I’m almost scared to try the mozzarella sticks.”

“But we must, Anne-girl. It’s life or death at this point because I don’t know how I’ve lived this long without tasting food as good as this.”

“I’m telling Mary you said that.”

“Don’t you _dare_.”

Anne groans, leaning back heavily into the booth. “We did not think this through, Gil.”

Gilbert resists the urge to drink more water, feeling bloated enough already. “I’m so disgustingly full,” he whines, patting his stomach down like that will help to magically digest his food. “We should have had salads and sprinted home.”

The tinkle of Anne’s laugh is quickly interrupted by her groan. “Don’t make me laugh, Gil. Bad idea. An even worse idea than the pasta.”

“I think the cheese didn’t help either, love.”

“The wine was great though,” she says, trying to reach for her glass while refusing to move from her slouched position.

Gilbert chuckles as he pushes her glass closer to her. She squeezes his thigh affectionately to show her thanks and sips at the last of her wine happily.

“Maybe a walk would help?” she suggests. “It’s a really nice night for it.”

“It really is, but are you sure you won’t be cold?” he asks, eyeing the hem of her dress. “I wouldn’t want to be responsible for you catching hypothermia.”

She laughs. “I’ll have you to keep me warm, lover boy. And I’ll tell you if I get cold and we can go straight home if that happens.”

“If you’re sure, Anne-girl.”

“And you’re letting me pay for half this meal, too.”

“Baby…”

“ _Baby_ ,” she warns, the endearment making his heart skip a beat even through her glare. “I said I could wait through a couple of dinners _we go dutch on_ before I got my hands on you, remember?”

“Is that right?” he asks, grinning. “You gonna get your hands on me tonight, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert?”

“Among other things, Mr. Blythe.” Her grin is downright salacious as she winks at him.

“No one told me dryad queens were so…” He lets his eyes rake over her, lingering on her breasts where he sees the barest suggestion of her hardening nipples.

“So…?” she asks, arching her back a little when she sees where his eyes have wandered to.

He licks his lips quickly as she offers her breasts to his burning gaze. “Anne-girl…”

“I’ll have you know that there are dryads in lots of stories who were great matchmakers,” she says, sounding amused at his inability to tear his eyes away. “They seemed like great lovers of romance.”

“I don’t think romance is the only thing you have in mind, though,” Gilbert says, finally lifting his eyes to hers.

She leans over to kiss him, and he groans as she boldly presses her breast into his arm. She lifts her mouth to his ear, biting it gently before she whispers, “Take me home and you can find out _exactly_ what I have in mind, Blythe.”

“Fuck,” Gilbert mutters, suddenly unsure if he was going to survive the night. “We still need that walk, don’t we? And I’m going to be walking around trying not to get hard with this…unapologetic vixen-dryad beside me, driving me crazy with how unbelievably sexy she is.”

Anne laughs gaily, pulling him out of the booth with her. “Come on Romeo. The night is calling to us!”

They pay for dinner and tip Jerome generously before walking out into the night. Anne was right; it was a really nice night for a walk. Music pipes out from a few small bars along the street, and Anne and Gilbert walk slowly, appreciating the mix of music and laughter in the air.

“This is perfect, Gil,” Anne says quietly, squeezing his arm and smiling as she breathes in the cool night air.

“ _You’re_ perfect,” he counters easily, making her smile widen before she presses it into his arm.

“This back and forth from romance to lust is really confusing my body,” she says on a laugh. “But at least I don’t feel like my food is about to explode out of me anymore.”

Gilbert laughs, feeling like his own stomach has settled a little. “Are you cold?” he asks.

“I have both you and your jacket keeping me warm, so I’m great.” She grins up at him widely.

“Wanna walk down the whole street before we head back home?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

As desperate as he is for her, Gilbert enjoys the walk immensely, especially seeing how much Anne is enjoying it too. They stroll along, letting the electricity build between them. They exchange slow, lingering looks as they walk, hands squeezing each other, arms constantly pulling each other closer yet never feeling quite close enough. Anne gasps when Gilbert shifts the arm he has around her waist to hold her underneath his jacket. He lets his touch remain mostly innocent, but can’t help letting his hand graze the softness of her breast through her dress every now and then. The third or fourth time he does it, Anne’s arm tightens around his waist, her nails digging into his side.

“Gil,” she says, glowing in the moonlight as she looks up at him. “Please. Take me home.”

His breath catches, his desperation for her bubbling up to his throat. “Come on, Anne-girl,” he says through the burning in his stomach.

He takes her hand, and they half walk, half run back to her place. She giggles as she runs the last few steps to her building, looking like temptation itself as she glances over her shoulder to smile at him shyly. He catches up to her in the lift where she’s waiting for him, leaning into the wall. He cups her face in his hands and kisses her, deep and slow and thorough as the elevator speeds them up to her apartment. She whimpers into his mouth as he coaxes her mouth open, her arms tightening around his waist and pulling him closer. He feels his cock give an interested twitch as Anne yanks his hips into hers, her hands wandering down to his ass and giving it a playful squeeze. He groans at the elevator’s obnoxious ding when they reach her floor because that means he has to stop kissing her for the precious seconds it takes them to run to her door.

He has a brief millisecond to thank the good Lord that none of their nosy high school friends witness their mad dash for Anne’s apartment, looking exactly like two people desperate for each other and a door they can lock behind them.

It feels like it takes an eternity for Anne to find her keys. Gilbert is sure he isn’t helping, pulling his own jacket off her shoulder to press his mouth to her bare skin. She desperately fumbles her key into the lock as his mouth travels up her neck to behind her ear, pressing himself into her ass lightly.

“Anne-girl,” he practically growls into her ear. “For the love of god, please get this door open.”

It’s seconds later when she gets her door open, and his relief and desperation gets even worse in a way that he didn’t think was possible. Before he can even take another breath, she has yanked him inside, shoved the door shut behind him, and slammed his back into the door.

Her kiss is, there’s no other way to describe it, absolutely _ravenous_. She presses her entire body into his, and he groans at the insistent press of her breasts into his chest. He wraps his arms around her, and she lets out an open-mouthed cry as he grabs her ass.

Her bed has never felt so far away.

He turns them around so he can press her into the door, and she hums her approval against his mouth. He kisses her desperately, hungrily, and she writhes against him as he practically fuses their bodies together against her door. Even though they’re both still fully clothed, they find their rhythm as they move together, right there against the door.

Anne wriggles one leg free and winds it around his waist, hooking a dainty ankle against the back of his thigh. He leans his forehead against hers as they shuffle and writhe into place, both of them sighing as the bulge in his pants lines up against her core. He holds her thigh in place at his waist as he starts to move, grinding into her slowly, the pleasure of it making his skin burn with want.

Anne’s breath comes out in little pants against his lips as they move, and she tangles a hand into his hair, holding him close. She scratches at his scalp gently, and it sends little zaps down his spine that makes him thrust into her firmly.

She gasps out his name on a particularly rough grind, her leg tightening around his waist. Between the way she’s saying his name and the heat of her rubbing against his cock, he feels half insane already, and doesn’t mind it one bit. And even though the voice in the back of his mind reminds him that he can’t wait to tug at the flimsy strings on her dress and watch as it slides down her almost-naked body, he can barely fathom the thought of moving away from her when everything they’re doing feels so goddamn amazing.

“Gil,” she breathes, sounding so debauched, so wanton that the sound goes straight to his cock. “Gil that feels so good. You feel so, so good.”

“You’re one to talk, Anne-girl,” he says, his breathing heavy as she leans her forehead against his cheek. “How are you doing this to me, huh? How are you making this feel so amazing? How are you making this feel _this_ _good_?”

She chuckles breathlessly and looks up at him with her beautifully clear blue-grey eyes, and he feels like he falls into them as his heart flips about in his chest.

“I love you, Anne-girl,” he whispers. “So much.”

She pulls him closer, gasping as his hips continue their desperate grind. “I love you too. God, I love you.”

“Gilbert’s fine,” he quips, and she laughs as she tugs on his hair.

He groans as Anne uses her grip on his curls to tilt his head back, attaching her lips to his neck and trailing wet kisses from under his chin down his throat. It’s not that he doesn’t notice that her hands have strayed to the buttons on his shirt or anything, it’s just that her mouth, and occasionally her tongue, on his neck feels very, very nice. His hand on her thigh wanders further up her leg until he’s brushing against the hem of her dress, his fingers trailing the soft skin under the material lightly. When she starts to unbutton his shirt, letting her mouth trail down to his chest, he starts pushing up her skirt, exposing more of her thighs until he’s cupping her ass. He slowly traces the line of her underwear, her leg gradually unravelling from around his waist as she kisses her way towards his stomach.

Her mouth trails back upwards as her hands trace his ‘almost abs’, as she calls them. He lets out a muttered “Fuck,” as she lets her lips graze over his nipple, sucking on it lightly when it makes his hands squeeze her ass firmly.

He feels her lips curve into a smile against his chest, and she looks up at him, her face lit up with mischief. He smiles back, breathing heavily as she nips at his skin. She reaches for his belt slowly, giving him plenty of time to stop her.

“Are you sure about giving up our ‘pants stay on’ thing?” she asks as her fingers dip into his waistband a little, tugging at his belt. “I’ll stop if you want me to.”

“I’m sure if you are,” he says, his voice much lower than he’s used to.

He’s about to clear his throat to see if his voice would go back to normal when Anne says, “Your voice gets so throaty when we…do stuff. It’s really…”

She bites her lip, looking so goddamn sexy and coy that he wants to tug her lip free and bite it for her.

“You like my voice when we’re uh, doing stuff?” he asks, his voice still a little unrecognisable to him.

She looks up at him, biting her goddamn lip again as she nods, her fingers dipping into his waistband slightly to tug on it. He tugs her lip free with his thumb, kissing her as she tightens her grip on his belt. He bites her lip gently, and she lets out a half-moan, half-gasp that’s the sexiest sound he’s ever heard.

She cups him lightly through his jeans and he groans against her lips as she starts trailing her fingers, light and teasing, against his erection.

“Anne-girl…” he mutters, pushing closer to her, leaning his arm against the door on one side of her head. “I…”

“Can I touch you?” she asks, bold as anything as she pulls back a little to look at him. “Taste you?”

She squeezes his cock gently, and he can’t help but instinctively thrust into her hand. He tightens his hold on her ass, saying, “But I uh… I kinda wanted to taste you first.”

She grins mischievously and leans up to kiss him, one hand working his cock as the other tugs at his belt lightly.

“Well, I _also_ wanted to taste you first, so…” she whispers against his mouth, and he feels like his entire body may spontaneously combust with need as she kisses him lightly, barely a brush of her mouth against his. He chases after her mouth, and she smiles into his kiss, murmuring, “And we _both_ know you have a hard time saying no to me.”

“Are we really about to get into an argument about who gets to go down on who first?” he asks, chuckling breathlessly, his eyes closing as she starts to tug his zipper down. She wriggles a single finger into his pants and suddenly, only his boxers stand between his cock and her teasing touch. He leans his forehead on hers, gasping as she nudges his erection in a slow up and down motion, teasing at what’s to come.

“Well,” she says, catching his lips in an unhurried kiss. “As fun as it would be to actually have that argument just to see what would actually be said… I think I’m already winning. Don’t you?”

He’s about to argue, about to convince himself that he can absolutely take himself, well, part of himself, away from her teasing touch. He’s about to argue that he really wants to take her dress off and have her gasp and moan his name as he has his mouth on her. He’s about to tell her that he really wants to see her, hear her, when she comes, and that he wants to watch it happen again and again and again.

He’s absolutely about to do at least one of those things when she slays him, looking up at him with those eyes that he loves, darkened with want, whispering a breathy, sensual, “Please, Gil?”

All he can do is nod slowly.

“Tell me to stop anytime, and I will,” she says, kissing his jaw as she starts to unbuckle his belt. “Okay?”

“I trust you,” he says, struggling a little to comprehend the intimacy he’s about to share with the love of his life and the woman of his dreams. He can’t believe that Anne, his beautiful, wonderful Anne, is taking his clothes off, that he’ll soon be able to take _her_ clothes off, that they’re about to see each other naked, about to enjoy each other in ways he’s only dreamed of.

“Okay Gil, is this a chastity belt or something? I can’t fucking get it off,” Anne says, laughing as her struggle with his belt proves to be too much for her.

It’s just what he needs to get out of his head, laughing as he easily unbuckles it for her. “Chastity belts are easier to find than you think, Anne-girl,” he says, grinning.

They’re still smiling as Anne unbuttons and unzips him the rest of the way, letting his pants drop to his ankles. His shirt hanging open and his pants at his ankles, she rubs their noses together as she traces the outline of his cock through his boxers. He hums as she slips her hand inside his boxers and touches his bare cock for the first time. She’s gentler than he thought she’d be, and he swears as she swipes her thumb over the head.

“You know you don’t have to if you don’t want to, right?” he asks as she edges his boxers off, letting it join his pants around his ankles.

“I want to,” she says quickly. “Just…help me out as I go? Tell me what you like?”

He grins breathlessly. “I already know that anything you do is going to feel fantastic, baby. I promise.”

And then, like she has no regard for his nerves or his heart or his lungs, she holds his gaze as shegets down to her knees. He doesn’t look away as she looks at his dick for the first time, and takes a small amount of pride at the way she mutters, “Is there any part of you that isn’t stupidly pretty, Gil?”

Before he can respond with some glib remark that would probably have made her smack him, she licks a broad stripe up the underside of his dick, and he practically collapses against the door, his head now leaning against the forearm he has braced on the door. She sucks him into the wet heat of her mouth and he suddenly understands what heaven must feel like.

He groans at the incredible feeling, and she hums around him as she continues to suck him slowly. She speeds up gradually, her head bobbing up and down his cock, his jacket sliding off her shoulder and down her arm as she starts to move more vigorously.

He’s vaguely aware that he’s talking to her in sentence fragments, calling her name and telling her how good she’s making him feel, but not entirely sure if any of it makes sense to her or anyone else who might be familiar with the English language. He watches as her hands start to move with her mouth a little, and he starts to feel an insistent tug in his stomach. Her hand that’s not on his cock edges around to squeeze his ass, and it’s a struggle not to start thrusting into her mouth as she works his cock and almost _massages_ his ass.

He’s almost relieved when her hand moves away from his ass to splay over his stomach, almost claiming as she brands him with her touch. He feels practically blind with pleasure, her mouth and hands taking him higher and higher. Just as he wishes that he had something to cling to, his hand automatically reaches for her soft cheek and tangles in her hair. She moans with his cock still in her mouth, and spasms of desire spark all over his body. His breathing heavy as he gets close to losing himself in her, and he gently thrusts into her mouth, careful not to give her too much.

He’s right there, right on the brink and just needs something to take him over the edge when she looks up and they lock eyes. It’s absolutely indecent, the way she looks up at him with his dick in her mouth, and as he hits the back of her throat, it’s enough to get him dangerously close.

“Anne…” he says, his voice completely unknown to him now. “Anne, I’m about to…you’re so good, Anne I’m going to…”

She hollows out her cheeks and tightens her grip in her gusto, and his entire world _explodes_ in technicolour like he’s never seen before. He vaguely registers that she’s slowed a little, and that her hands are gently fondling his balls, sending shocks down his spine. He’s slumped into the door, one hand still grasping at her hair.

“Fuck, Anne-girl,” he says, his voice a little hoarse. “That was so…fuck, that was amazing.”

She grins as she wipes her mouth on the back of her hand, smudging her lipstick around her mouth.

“Get up here,” he says, panting a little as he helps pull her to her feet before he pulls her into his arms, both of them leaning against the door, his practically naked body pressed into her still-clothed one.

“God, you have no idea,” he says into her hair. “That was better than anything I could have imagined.”

She giggles, and his heart collapses with love at the sound. “Well I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” she says into his neck, kissing him there.

“I’m not done with you,” he promises. “Just you wait. Let me recover from that mind-blowing orgasm first.”

She chuckles, slipping her arms under his shirt as she holds him. “You’re not just saying that? It was actually good?”

“Good doesn’t begin to cover it, baby. It was the most spectacular fucking blowjob I’ve ever… I can barely _speak_ right now.”

“If ‘mind-blowing’ and ‘spectacular’ are things you say when you can barely speak, I’d say you’re doing pretty alright with the English language.”

“Oh, what a relief,” he snarks, making her laugh. “I wouldn’t want to offend you with my utterly basic use of the language when my mind is filled with nothing but you right now.”

She giggles and kisses his shoulder, her hands rubbing his back gently. Still holding her, he kicks off his shoes so he can step out of his pants, doing the awkward step-step-step of someone trying to kick off their pants without using their hands. Anne helps, her face still in his neck as she slips his shirt off his shoulders and lets it flutter to the floor.

“Are you naked except for your socks right now?” she says into his shoulder, and he chuckles as he feels her smile into his skin.

“I am naked except for my socks right now,” he confirms. “And I’m hoping we don’t fall from getting our feet snagged in my pants when we decide to move.”

Anne squeezes him tight before letting him go, and pushes him back a little. Distracted, he takes off his socks quickly, and realises when he straightens that she’s just…staring at him.

He stands there as her eyes and hands trail over his body, his shoulders, his chest, his stomach, his for-now spent cock, his thighs. She moves behind him, and she brushes her lips against the back of his neck and shoulder, one hand squeezing his thigh, the other wandering aimlessly down his spine and back. She kisses the base of his neck, making him sigh as she draws nameless shapes into the small of his back and then squeezes his ass, making him jump a little.

She slowly circles back around to stand in front of him, her mouth never leaving his skin and her hands trying to touch as much of him as possible.

“Do I…pass inspection?” he asks, chuckling nervously as she stands in front of him.

Her smile is overwhelmingly tender before she kisses him, deep and slow and reassuring.

“You’re breathtakingly beautiful, Gilbert Blythe, inside and out,” she says, tracing his jaw gently as she leans her forehead into his cheek. “And I would say not to let anyone tell you any different but…I’m hoping no one but me gets a chance to see you like this anymore. Not ever.”

The utter joy that overtakes his body and makes his every hair stand on end feels ten times better than his orgasm had.

“Yeah?” he asks carefully. “Ever?”

“Ever,” she affirms, smiling and wrapping her arms around him. “Is that okay with you?”

“More than,” he says, his grin barely leaving his face as he swoops in to kiss her. It’s not really a proper kiss, both of them grinning like fools. But it doesn’t really matter, he finds, as they giggle and laugh into each other’s mouths. Because they’re holding each other with the promise of forever settling into their bones, and it’s a promise that he intends to keep if it’s the last damn thing he ever does.

For now though, he wants to seal that promise under her skin; with his hands and his mouth and his heart.

“I love you, baby,” she says softly.

“I love you too, beautiful,” he says, cupping her face as he kisses her again, properly this time.

She hums happily as he kisses the corner of her mouth, and then starts trailing kisses up her jaw to her ear. She squeezes his waist before trailing her hands further down, cupping his ass with both hands as he plants a soft kiss behind her ear before nibbling on it gently.

“Have I told you before that you have a very nice ass?” she asks, sighing as he kisses down her neck to her shoulder.

He laughs as he pushes his jacket off her shoulders, letting it fall into a crumpled heap to the ground. “You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

She giggles, leaning back into the door when his mouth goes back to trailing over her shoulders. She moans as he kisses his way lower down to her chest, nudging her neckline aside as he kisses the tops of her breasts. She makes a noise of protest when he goes no lower, trailing his lips back up to her shoulder instead; the shoulder with the two flimsy strings holding the dress up that he’s been staring at all night. He gives himself a minute to press his mouth to the liberal sprinkling of freckles on her shoulders first, and Anne hums her approval, threading her fingers through his hair.

Fingering the strings on her shoulder, he pulls back to look at her, saying, “Is this okay?”

She nods frantically, and he finally tugs on the blessed, cursed, flimsy strings. He doesn’t look away as they come undone, the weight of the dress causing the top to fall to Anne’s waist easily, baring her breasts and stomach.

His breath catches at the sight, and Anne barely gives him a moment to breathe before she pushes the dress off her hips and shimmies it the rest of the way off, leaving her standing there in nothing but black lacy panties that he struggles not to tear off her immediately.

And the sight of her, standing there shyly as he drinks in the utter perfection of her bared body, it takes away the air in his lungs, wipes clean his brain of anything else, bathes him in utter bliss and also overwhelming _need_.

“You’re so,” he tries, his voice coming out in almost a croak. “God, Anne. You are so fucking beautiful. So fucking _perfect_. Oh god, look at you.”

She bites her lip shyly as he takes her in, her creamy skin, the freckles that he loves absolutely _everywhere_. He kisses her breast as his hand gingerly traces the lace of her underwear.

Anne whines as he ghosts his fingers over her mound, her hips jerking towards his touch as he goes back to tracing the lace that hugs her skin so perfectly.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to stop touching you,” he says, cupping her breast and squeezing it lightly. “I don’t think I’m ever going to run out of words to tell you how beautiful you are.”

“Gil, stop,” she says bashfully, hiding her face in his shoulder and hugging him.

Even though his head nearly explodes at the feel of her skin (so much soft, sweet-smelling bare skin) against his, he lets his arms circle her waist and kisses her head, chuckling as he says, “You’re gonna have to get used to me complimenting you.”

“Maybe not today,” Anne says, her lips curving into a shy smile against his skin.

“Maybe not today,” he allows, still chuckling as he kisses her head again, his hand wandering up the smooth skin of her back. “It feels so good to hold you like this, Anne-girl.”

“Like what?” she sasses, a little bit of mischief creeping into her voice. “Barely clothed?”

His heart in his throat, his hands squeeze her ass quickly before hooking his fingers into the sides of her underwear. “Maybe completely unclothed?”

Anne says nothing, putting her hands on his instead, both of them then pushing her underwear down and off of her. He can barely breathe, his brain yelling at him that he’s holding a naked Anne in his arms. He can feel her breasts pressing into his chest, her soft thighs pressing into his, and his still-soft cock pressing into her mound. He’s almost scared what it might do to him if he stepped away to look at her, even though he really, really wants to.

He really, _really_ , fucking wants to.

“I think I’m freaking out a little,” he says softly, chuckling. “This is… The 13 year old Gilbert in my head is high-fiving me so hard right now.”

“Perv,” she accuses, sounding amused. “I may be freaking out a little too. We’re naked…together.”

He moves a hand down to her ass, squeezing lightly. Anne’s gasp is punctuated by her hand in his hair, tugging.

“We’re naked together,” he repeats breathlessly as she scratches down his back and squeezes his ass too.

He kisses her shoulder, thumbs rubbing into the sides of her thighs. She sighs as he nips at her neck, licking and sucking his way down her chest. He traces the underside of her breast, his touch making her arch her back, her breasts thrusting closer to his face. He licks her nipple, making her keen and gasp his name, her grip tightening in his curls.

As he sucks her nipple into his mouth, he strokes his thumb from her side down to her mound, his teasing touch not going any further. He hears Anne’s head thunk into the door as she sighs and gasps at his touch, and he chances a glance at the only part of her he hasn’t yet seen.

Her neatly trimmed pubic hair is the same vibrant red of her hair, and heat fills him as she parts her legs at the touch of his hand to the insides of her thighs. She whines as his fingers wander higher and higher on her inner thigh, and her breath catches when he finally starts tracing the wetness of her folds.

“Gil,” she breathes, clinging to him with her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

He rubs a thumb over her nipple, his mouth dropping kisses on her head, her shoulders, her neck. His other hand keeps his touch light as he traces her folds, and she thrusts her hips towards him as he teases closer and closer to her clit.

She’s so beautiful, her skin flushed and her lips parted as she takes pleasure from his touch, even when her whine of his name starts to sound like a protest. He chuckles at her wordless complaint, obligingly letting his thumb find her clit, rubbing slow circles into it, matching the pace of his thumb on her nipple.

Anne’s whispers a breathy, lingering, “Yes,” into his ear, and his entire body shudders in response.

He becomes firmer in his motions on her clit, and sucks on her shoulder, a bright red mark forming. She starts to move her hips, chasing his touch, and he pulls back to watch her. Her eyes are closed, her head thrown back, the movement of her body so enticing as she rocks into his hand. She opens her eyes like she can sense him watching her, a lazy smile forming on her face as she notices his gaze, hot and unwavering.

“Can I help you, sir?” she asks, biting her lip with a sly smile.

“I just…can’t look away,” he admits, watching the rise and fall of her chest as she pants, the sway of her breasts as she moves, the way her hips roll into his hand. “You’re so fucking wet, Anne-girl. Are you enjoying this?”

“Gil… I need…”

“Tell me,” he breathes, kissing her cheek, her jaw. “What do you want, Anne-girl?”

She moans as he presses his mouth to her neck, as he sucks on her nipple lazily.

“Fingers…” she pants as he kisses and sucks his way across her chest, sucking her other nipple into his mouth. “Inside me… Fuck, please baby I need…”

He immediately slips a finger inside her, and he feels Anne’s nails scratch down his back, the stingsurprising him into sucking harder on her breast. Anne whimpers, clutching at him as he adds another finger. She’s so wet that he can _hear_ his fingers thrusting in and out of her.

“Like that?” he asks, moving his fingers slowly, his mouth moving from her breast to her neck.

“Just like that,” she cries as he nips at her neck. “Fuck… Gil that feels… Don’t stop, don’t stop!”

He grins into her neck, sucking gently on her pulse point, his fingers speeding up, his thumb relentlessly circling her clit. Her breasts heave against his chest, her hips still rolling into his hand as she clutches at him, her nails still digging and scratching into his back. He groans, feeling himself start to stir at the noises she’s making into his ear, the breathy gasps and the little cries she lets out driving him absolutely nuts.

Anne moans when he sucks another mark into her breast, breathing out how good it feels into his curls. She lets out a noise that’s positively obscene when he starts sucking on her nipple, as he bites at it a little.

“Gil…baby I’m so close, I…” she pants.

“Tell me what you need, Anne-girl,” he mumbles into her breast. “Tell me.”

“Faster…faster, please.”

He starts to vibrate his fingers into her and bites at her breast, and Anne’s body locks up as she comes. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is open in a soft wordless cry, her arms tightening around him as he slows his fingers, trapped between her thighs. He watches as she comes back to herself, as the tremors of her body slowly fade.

She grins lazily when she opens her eyes to see him staring at her, and he grins back before kissing her soundly.

“Fuck, Mr. Blythe. I didn’t know how good you were at that,” she murmurs against his lips.

“Oh, I’m not done yet, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert,” he says, kissing her firmly before lifting her into his arms. “I still haven’t gotten to taste you yet."

She giggles, wrapping her legs around his waist. “I’m glad you did that; I don’t think I’m up for walking yet.”

His chuckle turns into a low groan as she nibbles on his ear. He somehow manages to walk them to her room through Anne’s distractions, her tongue in his ear and her hands in his hair, her gentle caress sending zaps down his spine as he feels himself start to harden against her spread thighs.

He considers it a victory that he manages to lay her down gently in her bed instead of just collapsing into it. Anne immediately pulls him into a kiss, wrapping her limbs around him tightly and pressing her body into his.

He lets out a surprised ‘mmm’ against her lips, happy to lie there on top of her exchanging long, lazy kisses. Anne’s clever tongue prods at his and she gasps as he sucks on her tongue gently. She sucks on his tongue in turn, her hands drifting down his back to squeeze his ass, encouraging his half-hard cock against her, rubbing against her still wet folds.

A strange, half-strangled noise bubbles out of his throat at the feel of her against him, and he almost wants to sink into her immediately, the temptation of her tight warmth right _there_.

“God, Anne,” he groans. “You…are a right temptress, you know that?”

“Funnily enough, I don’t think you’ve mentioned that fifteen thousand times in the past week,” she says, grinning before she bites at his jaw.

“Because it’s _true_ ,” he replies, groaning as she sucks on his neck. “ _Vixen_.”

He brings her lips back to his, and she hums happily into his kiss, her feet trailing down from his thigh to his calf. He’s quick to trail his mouth down her neck, then lingering on her shoulders, eyeing the mark he left on her shoulder and kissing her bruised skin.

Anne’s smile is soft as she watches the tender gesture, and he flushes as he grins shyly into her chest, kissing between her breasts. He nuzzles the underside of her breasts, and she lets out a pleased moan. He lingers on her breasts, tweaking and sucking on her nipples, trailing his fingers over her torso lightly, until her back is arching off the bed and her body is writhing under his.

Her legs fall open as his mouth travels down her stomach, her breath hitching as he licks at her belly button. And finally, finally he’s there, settling between her spread thighs, his mouth tracing the faint trail of freckles he finds on her inner thigh. Anne winds her fingers through his hair as he leaves yet another hickey on her inner thigh, gasping as he licks her there to ease the sting.

The smell of her is intoxicating, and his mouth waters with the promise of her taste. He traces her folds lightly, and then circles her clit once, twice, three times. In the next breath he spreads her folds with his fingers and swipes his tongue from stripe to tail.

She tastes like absolute sin.

Anne’s nails scratch at his scalp as he lets his tongue explore her folds, his hands keeping her thighs spread open. She keens her approval as he lets his tongue dip inside her briefly, before going back to his lazy exploration of her folds.

“You are such a fucking tease, Gilbert Blythe,” Anne proclaims through a breathless laugh.

He laughs, and she trembles as it makes his mouth vibrate against her. He sucks on her folds gently, and experimentally moans against her, making her buck her hips into his face as she gasps.

He feels her moving about, and looks up to see her propped up on her elbows, watching him eat her out. He feels the hair on the back stand on end as their eyes lock, and he dips his tongue inside her, watching as her mouth falls open in a gasping cry.

It’s breathtaking, watching the way her body moves as he has his mouth on her. He slips two fingers inside her easily, and lets his tongue find her clit, circling around it teasingly before sucking on it gently. Anne starts panting, and he watches her gorgeous breasts heave and quiver as she moves.

He curls his fingers inside her, brushing against her walls, and Anne flops back down on her back. He watches as she teases her own breasts, brushing her fingers across her nipples and the sensitive undersides of her breasts. He groans against her, and Anne gasps as he finds that spot inside her that makes her back arch and her thighs almost clamp around his head. He eases her thighs back open with one hand, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles on her inner thigh.

“Baby,” she gasps. “Oh god that feels so fucking nice…”

His fingers continue thrusting into her, rubbing against that sweet spot inside her as he continues to lick and suck at her clit. He feels her thighs shaking, and his free hand drifts up to her stomach to help her lie still. She’s quick to take his hand and bring it up to her breast, and he chuckles, tugging and circling her nipple and cupping her breast.

It’s a little hard to get his hands and his mouth to all work together, but judging by her increasingly loud cries he must be doing an okay job. Remembering what had gotten her over the edge the last time, he vibrates his fingers inside her as he rubs into that spot, and sucks _hard_ on her clit. He looks up and sees Anne cupping the breast that’s not covered by his own hand, and with one final tug on her nipple, her body arches and shakes as her orgasm hits.

He doesn’t slow, his fingers still thrusting into her as he bites her lower stomach gently, giving her clit a break in case it starts to hurt from over-sensitivity. He focuses his efforts on his hands, one still thrusting into her and the other flicking her hard nipple. Anne cries out, both from her orgasm and his continued efforts, her hands leaving her breasts to wind into his hair, pulling at it roughly as she grinds her core into his face.

Not being able to help himself, he starts flicking at her clit with his tongue and Anne’s responding gasp is loud, followed by a surprised, open-mouthed cry. He rubs at the sweet spot inside her, his tongue insistent on her clit before he starts sucking on it again. Anne’s cries get higher and higher in pitch until, with one particularly insistent grind of his fingers into her, she lets her orgasm wash over her with an almost silent cry.

Gilbert slows his attention to her clit, giving it one last suck before kissing it gently. He withdraws his fingers from her pussy, and takes a last taste of her before kissing her thigh and getting up on his elbows to look at her.

She looks so fucking beautiful, her skin flushed and glowing with a faint sheen of sweat, her chest still heaving as she catches her breath, her body still quivering with the occasional shudder. Her hands that had been in his hair drop limply to her sides, and she bites her lip when she sees him watching her.

He kisses her stomach gently, asking, “You okay, Anne-girl?”

She chuckles a little, saying, “Okay may be a bit of an understatement right now.”

He laughs with her, pressing kisses up her stomach to her breasts. He kisses each nipple and pays special attention to her shoulders and neck before reaching her lips. He pecks at her lips and both her cheeks gently, then her nose, and her eyelids, and her forehead.

She murmurs in protest when he gets off her, but he quickly gathers her into his arms, both of them lying on their sides, pressed together. She reaches up for a kiss he gladly provides, close-mouthed but lingering.

“That was…” she trails off, stroking his cheek.

“Yeah,” he agrees, kissing her palm tenderly. “It was.”

“And you…” She presses her hips into his, grinning when she feels his erection bobbing against her stomach. “You feel like you’re ready to go again.”

He sighs as she trails her fingers over his cock lightly. “Later, Anne-girl. I just want to hold you for a while…if that’s okay?”

He groans as she squeezes his dick gently. “You sure?”

“Very sure, love,” he assures her, grinning as he takes her hand off him and kisses her wrist, and then her palm. “Come here.”

Anne smiles and tucks her face into his neck, pressing a kiss to the hollow of his throat. He lets out a pleased hum and brings her with him as he lies on his back. Anne pressed into his side, they link their fingers together, their hands resting on his chest, and he pulls her closer with the arm he has wrapped around her.

“Have I told you tonight that I love you?” she asks quietly, her thumb stroking his chest. “That I love you so _very_ much?”

“I love you too,” he replies, just as quietly. “So much. Tonight has been…an absolute dream.”

She grins and kisses his shoulder. “Better than a dream,” she corrects. “Because it’s real, and you’re really here, and we really just…did all that.”

Gilbert chuckles, and squeezes her gently. “We really did just do all that.”

They lie there quietly for a moment, in each others arms. Gilbert is carding his fingers through Anne’s hair gently when she says, “It really was…amazing. I’m supposed to have words to describe it but I just…” She looks up at him, so much love in her eyes as she says, “It was _everything_ , Gil.”

He feels tears come to his eyes, and blinks them away quickly, stroking her cheek and smiling at her gently. “It _was_ everything,” he says. “It was more than I could ever have imagined.”

“It was more than I imagined too,” she agrees. “And I have a _very_ good imagination.”

He grins. “Do you want me to pinch you? Just to check?”

“No need,” she quips, kissing him gently. “My imagination could never come up with all the wondrousness of you, so this must be real.”

“I love you more than I could ever love any version of you I come up with in my head. My beautiful, incredible Anne with an E.”

He kisses her again, feeling her smile into his cheek as they lie together.

“Shit!” she suddenly exclaims, stiffening in his arms.

“What? What’s wrong?” Gilbert asks worriedly. He has a couple of milliseconds to panic, wondering if he had hurt her, if she was having second thoughts, if she didn’t like that he had left hickeys on her, if she thought he should have asked her before he went ahead and marked her like some territorial asshole…

“I need to take off my makeup,” she complains, slumping over him. “But I’m so comfortable and warm here.”

He laughs, and she whines into his chest in continued complaint. “I need to brush my teeth too,” he says. “I’ve seen very exaggerated pictures of what happens when people don’t brush their teeth enough, and it’s scarred me more than it should have.”

Anne giggles. “Please don’t show me those pictures ever. Especially if it means we can lie here for a few more minutes because I’m not as scarred as you about not brushing my teeth enough.”

Gilbert cuddles her closer, nuzzling into her hair contentedly. “I’ve got a few more minutes, Anne-girl. Though I do think the curiosity is going to kill you and you’ll ask me to see the pictures eventually.”

She giggles again, saying, “You know what? You just might be right about that. Show me tomorrow when we’re studying.”

“Your wish is my command, Queen Anne.”

“Dork,” she accuses laughingly. “I love you.”

“I love you too, dryad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally Shirbert give in and have some filthy-but-still-romantic fun!! 
> 
> Anyway thank you all so much for your patience. I just started a new and super hectic job and life has been CUR-RAY-ZEE. Been working all hours including weekends, so I've been busy af with no time to write until things slowed down a bit. But the job itself is great and my new colleagues are awesome, it's just...busy lol. 
> 
> So I hope this longer than usual chapter helps make up for my extended af absence! Sending you all so much love for continuing to read and comment and kudos this fic, also known as my guilty pleasure and my love letter to Shirbert and romance in general. 
> 
> Stay safe, wherever you are, and keep those masks on. Protect yourself and your loved ones as well as others around you and their loved ones too.
> 
> Also, come find me on tumblr at lilmisstryingsarcasm and let's die together over Shirbert and AWAE and the world in general 😁

**Author's Note:**

> I only semi-know where I'm going with this, so believe me when I say I thoroughly appreciate your patience! 😂
> 
> Be kind to each other out there, you guys ❤️


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